Unseen
by Experimental Madness
Summary: Rebecca Tanner had always been in love with her master, Sir Guy of Gisborne. Her feelings were hardly a secret; everyone knew. Everyone, that is, save for Guy.
1. From That Moment

**Yes, a new fic. I'm aware that as RH is undoubtedly over for good I'm not sure if anyone is going to still want RH fic, but for what it's worth I still have a few good stories left in me so if you have the mind and the interest do enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood. I can only say I wish that I did. XD**

**A/N (IMPORTANT PLEASE READ): This story is told through flashbacks that don't always go in chronological order. Chapters will always begin in S3 starting from pre ep1 up to the very last episode. The flashbacks that interrupt the S3 flow are not in order. They will jump from pre-series, to S1, and to S2 depending on the theme of the chapter or a specific memory of a character. If you are confused at the jumpiness that's fine, you're supposed to be. As you read, more things get filled in and relationships become clearer. **

**A note on the dates: Anything that dates from 1170-1173 marks pre-series flashbacks other time markings are less clear. Anything that says 1192 is taking place in S1 anything that says 1193 is S2. **

**Now enough of the boring technical stuff. Enjoy.

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I

From that Moment

She had been lighting candles that evening. She did it every evening, in every window ledge there stood a candle. She was vigilant in this ritual, even though the servants found it to be a rather annoying and bothersome little display. After all _she_ was ever out to please the lord of the manor. _She_ was his trained, little pet, always padding off after him. _She_ was sustained at just a glance from him. She was a fool. So they said.

She stood in the upstairs window, the last of the candles lit. Even from the second floor she could see the honeyed lights dancing in the window below her. She smiled with satisfaction, but she turned her eyes to the road and sighed with deep anxiety. The servants had grown tired of such sighs. She had one for every occasion concerning _him_. She sighed when he left a room. She sighed when he grew cross with her. She sighed when he would apologize for such behavior later. Sometimes she sighed at the mere thought of him. She was a starry-eyed fool.

She made her way back downstairs and the gossip abruptly quieted. It wasn't like she didn't know they talked about her behind her back. They would not be servants if they did not indulge in that one vice. It was a matter of hierarchy which silenced them. She was considered the head of the household maids in the manor. Such a promotion had never been official, but she was the pet of the master, and therefor was considered not to be trifled with. It was rather annoying, as she was such a stupid woman.

"D'you really think the master's gonna know you've been keeping a light in the window for him?" A particularly bold maid spoke up, a sneer in her voice.

"'Course I don't." Came the reply, "When 'as he noticed anythin'?"

"Then why do you do it?" The maid asked dropping the malice from her voice, seeing that it would get no further reaction from her.

"'Cause I hope he will notice."

"You're daft. That's what." The maid snorted.

"Aye. Go on off t'bed, Mary, been a long day."

"Get off t'bed yourself, you look exhausted. Night, then." The maid retorted, but not without a hint of kindness. She turned on her heels and trudged towards the servant's quarters at the end of the hallway.

Of course, Mary knew _she_ would never sleep. She never slept when he was away. She sat in a little chair she kept by the hearth, which was closest to the entry hall. She waited with eyes half closed every night, as if expecting to catch the master sneaking back in in the dead of night. She had been waiting in her little chair for six months. She was going to drive herself into the grave over him, not that he would ever know. Seemed a shame.

Then one night it happened. The long awaited sound of hooves came pounding up the pathway outside. She was the first to rouse herself from her twilight state of slumber. Before she could even reach the hallway the door was shoved open violently.

"Get that great wasted mess of a man upstairs!" A harsh and grating voice commanded.

She hid against a shadowy corner of a wall as two men carried another up the stairs. "Throw him into his room if you have to, I'm not standing here all night!"

She finally found her courage and approached the man standing at the foot of the stairs. "Sir?" She piped up. "What is going on?"

The man seemed startled by the presence of the woman, "Who are you?"

"A servant in this manor." She said rather proudly.

"Well then," he cleared his throat, "Your master's been taken upstairs, found him drunk in a tavern."

"Drunk?" She wasn't certain if she should be shocked at the sudden return of her master, or that he had been found in such a loathsome condition.

"I don't envy him the headache he'll have in the morning." The guard laughed.

"Then, I thank you, Sir, for returning him safely." She said softly.

By this time the two men were already on their way back down the staircase. The guard nodded to her, "A good night to you." He turned to go when he stopped and turned back around to face the servant, "You mourning the lady too?"

"What?"

"Just all the candles." He pointed to the window ledge, "Thought you was holding some vigil or something for the Lady Marian."

"What about the Lady Marian?" The servant's voice sharpened like a sword being unsheathed from its scabbard.

"She's gone. Been gone these past six months. Most say she died." The guard confided.

"Died? Are you sure?"

"Almost. People have been starting to talk. Anyway, I'll bid you a good night. You'll see to that drunkard of yours won't you?" The guard grinned.

"He'll be well cared for here." She said stonily as the guards left the manor.

She stood alone in the dark hallway. The Lady Marian was missing and presumed dead? She could already hear the wails of the other servants fill her head. They would say it was a shame, she was always such a sweet and kind young lady. They had such hopes that she would prove a good influence upon the master of the manor. Such a lovely girl, oh yes, she could hear it now. But alone in the dark room, she laughed so hard that the heart that had been broken for so long was roused to life.

**_1170_**

Rebecca Tanner found that carrying the freshly dried laundry back indoors was by far a more difficult task then she had been expecting. She thought she had gotten off easy when her mother had offered to do the sweeping in place of her gathering the laundry. She hadn't wagered on the many trips and large bundles she would be carrying herself. Fine thing for a waifish girl of fourteen years to be doing.

She couldn't even see over the top of the clothes as she carefully navigated her way back into the manor. Every step was a highly calculated effort. She had never been so aware of the grass beneath her feet, nor of the slippery mud, still quite wet from the rain two nights ago. Gisborne Manor couldn't be too far off now. She should not have praised herself so early, for the moment she did she crashed into something unseen before her. She fell the ground with a bump, as the clothes fell like feathers back to the muddy earth. "Oh damn it all!" She cursed, even as she rubbed at her head while getting to her feet, "Damn, damn, damn..master!" She squeaked as she caught sight of the obstruction to her path.

"Are you all right?" Guy of Gisborne asked in a low tone, he was peeping at her from underneath his unruly black hair. He stood slightly hunched over, as if embarrassed to stand upright and stern. He was always such a shy, awkward lad and now that he had sprouted up a few inches in the past few months he seemed even more lanky and out of sorts with himself.

"My apologies!" Rebecca found herself unable to stop her voice from squeaking. She busied herself with gathering up the clothes--clothes that would need a decent washing yet again. Her mother was not going to be pleased. "Didn't see ya. My fault..."

"Let me help you..." He mumbled as he began to gather up the fallen clothes alongside her.

"Oh no!" Rebecca exclaimed, dropping a few of the clothes yet again in her haste, "Damn...ah, sorry!"

Guy chuckled a little as he stood up with half of the laundry in his hands. Rebecca quickly regathered her fallen pile and righted herself, shifting the load about in her hands, constantly checking to make sure not a tunic nor a shift fell back onto the muddy ground. "Where should I put these?" Guy asked her.

"Give 'em t' me, master, I'll take 'em back t' get washed. No need to bother yourself further. Thanks very much an' such." Rebecca babbled quickly. She had never had a run in with the young master of Gisborne before. Usually she kept herself to herself and went unnoticed in the household.

"I'm not bothered." Guy shrugged.

"Really?" Rebecca asked, blowing a strand of her dark brown hair out of her face.

"No." Guy answered honestly, "Just bored."

"Ya sure?"

"I think I'm the better judge at when I'm bored." Guy responded.

"All right, then, master, follow me...jus' 'round the manor....my mum's gonna kill me..." Rebecca muttered to herself.

She felt rather uncomfortable walking alongside Guy so casually. She felt as if she should at least allow him to overtake her pace by at least a stride. So she awkwardly tried to reposition her footing. Guy stared at her in bemusement, wondering what she was trying to do. "Are you a cripple?" He asked rather bluntly.

"Wha--no!" Rebecca exclaimed.

"Then why are you walking like one?" Guy asked.

"I wasn'...I was trying t'...that is...oh, nevermind. Sorry, master." This apologizing was getting rather tedious for her.

"You know I've seen you about before." Guy pointed out in an attempt to make some sort of conversation.

Rebecca snorted, "That's 'cause I work here. Oh, bloody hell...." She swore as she realized her quipped tongue was going to get her into a lot of trouble one day. She was going to have to remember telling her mother she had been right all of these years about her behavior, she was never going to live this down.

She was rather relieved to hear the young master give a small laugh in return. "You're strange."

"Thank you, master." She mumbled.

"Uh...you're...welcome?" Guy didn't realize what he had said amounted to a compliment. He was most confused now.

Finding it best to walk the rest of the way in silence the pair remained staring at the path at their feet, occasionally glancing upwards at one another only to look away again in embarrassment.

"'S'right around here." Rebecca mumbled as she led Guy over to the water trough. Two women were standing around it, washing clothes. Upon seeing Guy approaching them they stopped what they were doing and acknowledged him with a curt bow of their heads.

Rebecca shuffled about on her feet, her face turning a bright shade of red as she tried to explain herself to the other servants, "Erm...erm...I dropped the laundry on my way back in...ah, the master was kind enough t'...help."

One of the servants took the bundles of clothes from both of the young adolescent's hands. The other pinched Rebecca's ear rather harshly, "Did ye apologize?" She asked.

"Ow! Yes, Jenny, leggo o' my ear before ya pull it off!" Rebecca winced.

"Forgive the girl, master, she's got nothing but clouds and air atwixt those ears o' hers." The maid chided, shaking her head at Rebecca.

"It's not her fault." Guy shrugged, trying to placate the older servant, "She couldn't have seen me when she ran into me."

"Ye did what, lass?" The servant gave Rebecca a light cuff about the head, "By Heaven, if your eyes weren't such a waste siting in that face o' yours."

"You don't need to hit her." Guy intervened in his quiet way.

The servant stopped her tirade, "As you wish, master, I'll send the girl back to her mother, then."

"That would be wise."

"I'd rather ye hit me." Rebecca groaned with a roll of her eyes.

"Another outburst like that, my young fool, an'll cuff yer head clear 'round yer neck." The servant warned. "Get going."

"I'm going, I'm going..." Rebecca snapped making her way back to the house.

"Wait!" Guy called suddenly, racing to catch up with her, "What's your name?"

"Why d'you want t' know, master?" She seemed stunned he had taken an interest.

"Uh...I don't...just thought that..."

Saving him from his shy stuttering, she put him out of his misery, "It's Rebecca."

"Rebecca." Guy repeated.

"Aye, simple, eh?" She smiled a little.

"My name's Guy." He suddenly blurted out.

She laughed, "I know, master."

"Oh...right..."

"Gotta go, if my mum don't see me soon, those two witches back there are going t' find her themselves." Rebecca smiled, "Thank you for your help, master."

"You're welcome, Rebecca."

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**I have a few chapters already written so expect those to be up soon. Other fics will be updated with all due haste. Do drop a review and let me know if this story intrigues you at all. **


	2. Lies

II

Lies

She was at his bedside, with a washing cloth in her hands. He had been in bed for nearly two days straight, and he had not woken once. She bathed his brow gently, she could feel the heat coming off of of his fevered skin even through the cloth. He slept fitfully and thrashed about often, nightmares passing over him. She hushed him; at least she tried. Wherever it was that he had gone, he had come back in a frightful state. His hair was tangled and matted to his face, and his leather coat and tunic had been torn nearly to shreds. What had happened to him? There was a time when she would have known.

She wondered if he knew of Marian's disappearance and rumored death. She bit her lip, feeling slightly ashamed of her elation two nights previous. He would certainly not share such a vicious joy. She wondered how she could have laughed at such news now. It was not like her.

"Kept the candles in the window for ya. Like you used t'do for your father, eh? Remember?" She whispered with a thin smile on her face.

She lowered her head, her brow furrowing with unshed tears. "Fancy ya leaving like ya did. Might have said something t'me. No secrets, remember?"

She dipped the cloth back into the bowl filled with water and reapplied it to his face. She tended to him patiently. Calming him whenever he became too wild in his movements. "This is the last time, master." She said with a false humor in her voice as she chided him, "This time I do so mean it. I ain't your nursemaid." It was funny because she was lying and if he had been awake he would have known she had been lying. She lost her grin again. It had been a long time since he had smiled at any of her jokes. She was beginning to think he had forgotten how to.

She pressed a hand to his head, brushing back a few strands of hair from his face. "You rest now? Stop this thrash'n about, it ain't helping none. You are safe, an' you know it."

His erratic movements seemed to still at her gentle touch. He sighed, muttering in his deranged sleep, "Marian..."

She withdrew her hand slowly, letting it fall back onto her lap. She slumped over, like a puppet whose strings had been cut away. "Sorry, master." she whispered. She sniffled a little, rubbing the back of her hand against her eyes, "Just me..."

**_1192_**

Sir Guy of Gisborne came riding back to Locksley Manor in a fine state. His tunic and trousers were dusted heavily with dirt, his hair was disheveled and a few twigs were still tangled around it. His face was cut and bruised, and already the swelling around one eye was turning blue-black. He clutched the reigns of his horse with one hand, his other arm was pressed against his chest and with each jolt he winced and bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out in pain. He was incredibly lucky to be alive and whole. For a time he had almost been certain Robin was going to murder him.

After painfully dismounting his horse he led it into the stables himself, as there were no servants in sight. He didn't mind. His legs were stiff and sore from the scuffle in the forest still, contrary to his hurts, it almost felt good to walk slowly from the stable back to the manor. At least the pain in his legs kept his mind off of the agony that was slowly eating away at his arm.

He entered the manor rather quietly, quite the opposite of how he had left it. He blinked in amazement. He had thought the outlaws would have ransacked the place, but much to his surprise everything had been cleaned and put back in its proper place. He blinked and looked to the doorway leading into the servant's quarters as he heard the soft padding of footsteps.

"Aren't you a sight." A coy and almost amused voice announced. Rebecca stood with her arms folded, her eyes sharp with a chiding light. With a sigh she gestured for him to sit down in the chair by the fire. He didn't need to be told. Exhaustion was running rampant through him, he didn't even have the energy to snap at Rebecca for her casual tone.

Almost as soon as he sat down she went to work inspecting the cuts and bruises which marked his face. He tried to swat her away, but she slapped his obstructing hand away, "Don't be such a stubborn fool." She scolded. "Well," She sighed, rising to her feet again, "The good news is you'll live, master." She laughed, "I'll get some bandages for ya."

He did not even think to thank her as she went to get the medical supplies to treat him. It would be pointless to refuse her help, even if he took this moment to hobble his way up to his room, Rebecca would follow and even if he shut the door she would barge in anyway and no amount of his anger would ever shift her until she had gotten her way. She didn't fear him. Sometimes he wished that she did, if only a little.

Rebecca returned swiftly, balancing the box which she had organized herself to hold all manner of supplies needed for treating illnesses or injuries. She knelt beside him, and taking a cloth, she poured some water onto it and began to dab at the cuts decorating his face. He winced as the stinging water aggravated the already inflamed and swelling gashes. "So," Rebecca sighed, "Want t' tell me what happened, master?"

"No, I don't." Guy grunted.

Rebecca merely shrugged and continued administering to him. She paused at one point and stared at Guy's arm; he was keeping it close to his chest, almost cradling it. She frowned and tried to reach for it only to have him jerk away from her. "Master, let me see..." She advised softly. "You know I won't hurt ya."

Reluctantly he allowed her to take hold of his arm. She pulled it away from his chest very carefully. She gave a great gasp upon seeing the ugly, molted burn wound upon his lower arm and part of his wrist. The cloth of his tunic had been burned away, although pieces of it clung to the burned skin. The skin was red and already blistering. It looked like someone had splashed fire onto his skin judging from the way it was spread out upon his arm. "Lord have mercy..." She whispered to herself. "Who did this to you, master? Was it Robin?" She asked swiftly, her eyes glaring up at him, bright with injustice.

Guy merely shook his head, wincing as she ripped up the remains of the shirt sleeve. "No?" Rebecca raised an eyebrow, "Then who?" She asked as she wrung some water from the cloth so that it dripped lightly down onto the burn wound. Guy sucked in his breath, hissing out in pain.

"You don't...need to know." Guy gasped as Rebecca set about to properly cleaning the wound.

Rebecca tried not to look insulted. She chalked his quipped tone to the fiery agony he must be feeling. She cleaned the wound and bandaged it tightly. "Do you think...do you think she was impressed?" Guy asked, looking down at her through bleary eyes.

"She?" Rebecca asked as she put her medicine box back together, purposefully playing ignorant.

"Marian." Guy specified. "I went after Hood to get her ring back...do you think she was impressed?" He smirked at her, but Rebecca could see by the flush in his cheeks he was getting feverish from the pain.

Collecting her emotions she gave him a smile. It was a smile she had cultivated these past few years. It was a most reassuring and honest smile and it concealed all lies perfectly. She had become so good at giving him such a smile that she could do it even when she was most heartsick or miserable. She once smiled at him like this even as tears threatened to fall down her face, but he only saw the smile and heard her reassuring words. He never saw everything she concealed behind it. "Of course she was."

"You think?"

"Don't be daft, master, I know." Rebecca insisted, "If it helps I was rather proud of you."

He ignored that last remark. He pulled out a ring from the pocket of his trousers. He toyed with it for a time, staring idly at it. Rebecca could not resist stealing a glance at it herself. "It's beautiful." She whispered.

"I have to return it to her." He tried to rise from his chair.

Rebecca caught him and wrapped her arms about him to keep him steady, "Time enough for that, master." She hushed, "You need t' rest first."

"Tomorrow then." He found he had not the strength to argue you with her, he hurt everywhere and while he longed to see Marian once again wearing his ring, he could not deny the fact that he was in no shape to ride to Knighton Hall at the moment. He let Rebecca help him to his bedchamber.

As he was laid down upon his bed an idea came to him. He gripped Rebecca's hand gently before she could turn to leave. Rebecca stopped and stared down at him; a very hopeful expression on her face. Perhaps he was going to ask her to stay for a minute or two. "Becca," She smiled at the use of her nickname, "do something for me."

"Anything, master, name it." She placed her hand atop his.

"Go to Knighton, inform Marian that I have her ring and that I am well."

She tried not to look too disappointed, "I'll leave right now, master." She told him.

Guy merely nodded before allowing himself to finally relax. He released Rebecca's arm and gestured for her to go without the slightest hint of gratitude. Rebecca headed for the door, "Master?" she hesitated in the doorway.

"What is it?"

"I'm glad you're all right." She smiled.

"Becca, I told you to get going." Guy snapped, his patience waning.

Rebecca felt her breath grow hot and tight in her throat as she tried to still the rapidly rising tears in her eyes. She gave a brief nod before exiting the room, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against it, and allowed herself a small cry. Wiping frantically at her eyes even as the tears were falling she chastised herself, "Come now, Becca, not right. Got a job t' do." She heaved a sigh, bottling up her tears. She set her face in stone, masking her tears, and with a brisk stride she set out for Knighton Hall.

***

Rebecca was possibly one of the few servants to have been taught how to ride a horse. She'd never tell who had taught her, none of them would ever believe her if she did; however upon explaining her business to the stable handler she was turned away. Frustrated, but having no time to argue with the man she set out to Knighton on foot. She broke into a run halfway down the path. If she was quick she would still reach the village in good time.

She only paused to rest twice. By the time she reached Knighton Hall she was halfway out of breath and her legs felt about as useful as torn cloth. She was a bit surprised to find Marian out in her garden. The Lady appeared almost content to be going about her daily chores. It was as if her betrothed hadn't risked his life to win back her ring.

Waiting for Marian to glance up from her work, Rebecca stood by awkwardly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Marian eventually spotted her and gave her a slight wave, signaling that it was all right for her to come forward.

"My lady." Rebecca gave a small bow as she approached.

"Rebecca, isn't it?" Marian replied.

"My lady is correct."

"Did you walk here from Locksley on your own?" She inquired, taking stock of Rebecca's current condition.

"Yes, my lady, I was sent here by my master t' tell you he has your ring and that he is quite well, so you need not worry." Rebecca said, although Marian seemed far from worried.

"You may tell Guy that I am pleased to hear it." Marian said, turning away to go back to her gardening.

Rebecca was dumbfounded. She had practically been dismissed, but she found she could not move. "Don't ya want t' see him?" She asked.

"What?" Marian glanced back up at the servant.

Rebecca fidgeted, "He was injured, my lady, an' while he'll never admit it, I think he's in quite a lot o' pain....I think he hoped you would--"

"Did Guy tell you to suggest this?" Marian sighed.

"No, my lady...I..."

"Then tell him that I may call upon him tomorrow."

"But, my lady, he's your betrothed! He risked his life for you, don't ya want t'---"

"Rebecca," Marian snapped, cutting off the sudden flow of outraged words from the servant, "I see that you mean well in coming here, but you overstep your boundaries."

"'M sorry, my lady..." Rebecca dipped her head apologetically, but she glared at Marian from under her long eyelashes.

"I suggest you start heading back to Locksley, it's going to get dark soon, and I would hate to think of you walking back alone in the dark." Marian sighed with a small friendly smile on her lips.

Rebecca nodded, biting her lip to keep from shouting her true feelings at Marian. There had not even been the slightest hint of concern in her eyes when she had mentioned Guy's pain. She turned to go, the sour taste of envy poisoning her thoughts. Marian may be the most beautiful woman in Nottingham, but no amount of beauty meant she was worthy of Guy. Such jealous thoughts worked their way into every corner of Rebecca's mind, as they always did when she had a run in with Marian. They kept her occupied on her trek back to Locksley Manor, she had hardly noticed the distance or her own exhaustion.

Her mind cleared a bit as she entered the manor. She trudged up the steps to check on her master. She opened the door slowly, peeking inside.

"Becca?" He was still awake.

"Yes, master, it's me." She took this as an invitation to come in.

Guy was an expert when it came to concealing his emotions, but even Rebecca could see the brief flash of disappointment when he realized she had come alone. "Did you speak to Marian?" He asked her, swallowing his disappointment.

"I did, master, she...she was going to come with me to Locksley, but...but her father forbade her, he was worried about her riding away when it was so close t' dark." Rebecca lied with a small smile on her lips.

"What did she say?"

"Oh, master...I..."

"Tell me what she said!"

"She...she said she was so pleased t' hear you were well. She," Rebecca gulped seeing the false hope she was raising in the man. She couldn't look at him as she spoke her lies to him. They were not Marian's thoughts or words she spoke now, but her own, masked behind the image of the woman he thought cared for him, "She didn't even care about the ring, she was so glad ya were all right."

"She said that?" For an instant Rebecca worried that maybe she had gone too far in her lies. Marian had never expressed such concern for Guy before, perhaps he was not going to be fooled by her words.

Rebecca nodded, "She said she would try t' come to Locksley tomorrow." While this was the truth, she doubted Marian would come to Locksley, even if she did she would find some reason to leave just as she arrived.

This seemed to placate Guy, even as he tried to hide it, Rebecca could see the small, but triumphant smirk upon his lips. "Thank you, Becca, you may go."

Somehow he only remembered to thank her when she brought him news of Marian, or if she came to announce her presence in Locksley. Oh, he was so very grateful then. "Master, I could stay with ya for a time..." No one else was going to bother to tend to him.

"Why would I want that?"

"Well...that...that wound is gonna need t' be cleaned again an' I thought..."

"If I need you I will send for you." He waved her away dismissively.

Rebecca gave a mute bow and left him. It was as if he was staring right through her, but never seeing her. When had the shy and gentle boy she had known turn into such a brutish and unfeeling man? She had asked herself this question over several years, but it did no good. For each moment she was so certain the Guy she had known was lost there would be a glimmer of the soul she had once known and her hopes would be raised once again. She pressed a hand against the door. "But I need you, Guy..." She whispered as if to answer his last words to her. "I need you..."

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**A/N: Really very pleased that you all liked the first chapter! Hope this one provided lots of thought. Much more to come soon! **


	3. Rogues

III

Rogues

"Have ya heard the rumors?"

"No. What rumors?"

"Been all over Nottingham, people say the master's killed Lady Marian."

"I don' believe it!"

"Swear 'tis true, my own sister heard it from a friend o' hers."

The clattering of two kettle pots into the washing trough startled the two kitchen maids. Rebecca turned about and fixed them with an icy stare. "Ye two be spreading rumors?" She asked darkly.

"No, miss Rebecca."

"Good." Rebecca wiped her wet hands upon her apron, "Because if I heard that you were spreading rumors about the master I'd 'ave you both boiled in yer own juices!"

"No one was speaking such things, miss Rebecca!" One of the girls squeaked.

"Off ya go then." Rebecca ordered.

The two girls quickly made their exit, one, who was bolder than the other insisting upon whispering to her counterpart, "Still says it's true, 'bout what he done."

"That's it." Rebecca grabbed both the girls by their ears and dragged them around. She spoke over their pained shrieking, "Jus' for that you two can spend the night tied up on the posts...an' stop that bloody screaming!"

"Rebecca!" Thornton's shout startled they furious maid, stopping her rampage in its tracks. "What do you think you are doing?" The elderly servant was usually a very kind and soft spoken man, but now he viewed this scene with a critical eye. As the head of the household servants he was the authority that all the servants obeyed. Now that their master was in no fit state to order anyone about, Thornton was practically in charge of overseeing the keep of the manor.

"I'm teaching these two gossips a lesson." Rebecca said, "Heard 'em muttering rumors about the master."

"Let them go." Thornton ordered.

"But--"

"Rebecca, let them go or it'll be _you_ I tie to the posts." He didn't mean it. Thornton never punished anyone.

Furious, Rebecca released her pinched grip on the two girl's ears. They dashed away with tears in their eyes, barely stopping to thank the man who had saved them from their punishment. Left alone with her superior Rebecca could only sulk. "I was only..."

"I know what you were trying to do." Thornton said, his voice still severe but far from unkind.

Rebecca hung her head, "It isn't true what they've been saying? The master wouldn't 'ave..."

"Do you presume to know Sir Guy's business, Rebecca?"

She bit her lip. Her pride would not allow her to answer that question properly. "You are a very loyal servant, Rebecca, you always have been to Sir Guy."

Rebecca winced, she knew that he was slighting her in his own way. Everyone in Locksley knew that she had been less than amiable to the former lord of the manor, Robin of Locksley. Only few now, knew why.

Thornton placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder, "But just because you are loyal does not mean you must fight your master's battles for him. You are not his defender."

Rebecca was about to retort that she saw no reason why she should not be his defender when a loud, hoarse cry followed by a loud crash was heard from upstairs. Rebecca and Thornton both looked at each other in surprise of the sound. She pulled away from the old servant. "That's the master..."

"Rebecca!"

"I have t' go. He needs me." She ran out of the kitchens and towards the stairs. She took a leap at the banister, twirling herself in a sharp turn as she clutched the railing. She dashed swiftly towards Guy's bedchamber. From out of the corner of her eye she could see Thornton looking up at her disapprovingly. She cared not for what he, or any other servant thought of her behavior.

She opened the door, "Master?" She called out.

Guy was sitting on the edge of his bed. Shards of the pitcher which had formerly been holding water were lying scattered over by the other side of the room. Water marked the wall where the pitcher had been dashed to bits. This wasn't the first time he had taken to destroying things. Ever since he awoke from his alcohol induced daze. Rebecca was certain he was feverish, but he never allowed her to get anywhere near him. He was like a wild animal.

His head was in his hands as Rebecca entered, but upon hearing her voice his attention snapped up and he eyed her much like a caged wolf would. Rebecca stayed by the door. Was he going to shout at her again? No. She let out a slight cry of fright as he lunged for her, pulling her out of the crevice she had made for herself against the doorway. He slammed her against the wall. It was as if he didn't see her.

He had his hands about her throat. She coughed and tried to pry his fingers off of her. "Master, stop!" She pleaded, but he didn't hear her. She stared helplessly up at him, but she wondered if she was plunging headlong into hell as she stared at into his wild eyes.

"Guy!" She called again. She had not used his name in so long. "Guy, stop! Stop..." she gave a choking gag as his hold on her increased, "It's me! It's....Becca!"

The fog of red-tinged rage slowly began to clear, for his grip about her neck lessened as the sound of her cries finally reached his ears. He released her and staggered backwards. Rebecca fell to her knees coughing and panting for air. She looked up at him. Guy was staring down at her, a mixture of shock and despair upon his haggard face. She rose to her feet timidly. She kept her hands up, palms open in a submissive gesture. "Guy, it's all right." She whispered as she approached him.

He tried to flinch away from her and yet at the same time he seemed not to mind when she placed a hand upon his arm. She hushed him as she would an untamed stallion. He was burning hot and his face was flushed. He was indeed, feverish. "Let's get you back into bed." She whispered. "You aren't well." She repeated this command as she tried to gently lead the sick man back to his bed.

"Becca." The sound of his voice was like the raspy bite of a sharpening sword. It hardly seemed human anymore.

"Master?"

"She's gone." He said to her, or was he really looking at her? "I can't find her..."

"Can't find who, master?" He must be delusional.

"Marian!" The name was a cry wrung from the deepest crevice of his soul. "She was here...she was..." he tore away from her and began to frantically search the room.

"Master, no one is here."

"No!" He roared, throwing a chair clear across the room. "No! She has to be here! Marian!"

Rebecca ran towards him as he fell to his knees. She could hear him sobbing and the sound was tearing at her heart. "I lost her. I destroyed her...she's gone..."

"Guy..." So it was true. He had killed Lady Marian, or was this all one fevered nightmare?

Not caring if he should chose to dash her against the wall, Rebecca bundled the man into her arms as if he was a child. It was odd to hold this man who was once so proud and so strong. Now he was no more than a sobbing wreck. Guy allowed Rebecca to hold him as he cried. "I have to find her..." he insisted in between his sobs.

Rebecca found herself crying as well. She held him tightly, as if hoping to ward off his fevered, waking nightmares. "You can find her tomorrow." She whispered, hushing him. "Tomorrow, I'll...I'll help you."

This quieted Guy and his sobs decreased in intensity. He lay against Rebecca, although he never placed his own arms about her. Rebecca sat with him, rocking him back and forth and hushing him every now and then as he cried out the remainder of his tears. When he quieted Rebecca got to her feet, helping the pitiful man up as she did so. It did not take any further urging to get him back into his bed. He was completely exhausted. She eased him down against the pillows, tenderly smoothing back the hair from his brow.

Tears were still falling from her own eyes but she was oblivious to them. She remained standing over him until she was certain he was asleep. Hesitantly, she leaned forward and pressed the smallest of kisses to his forehead, her talisman to keep him safe from his own inner demons.

She walked quietly over to the door, where the chair had been thrown just moments before. She gathered the battered piece of furniture to her and dragged it back over to Guy's bedside. She wasn't going to leave him like this. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeves. Those gossiping maids had been right, but how could that be? She felt sick to her soul. There must be an explanation. She couldn't imagine that Guy could be capable of killing anyone he cared for. It made no sense. She pressed her hand to her mouth and sobbed silently as she kept watch over her master. It made no sense at all.

**_Late Spring, 1173_**

"Think anyone else knows 'bout this place?" Rebecca cleared the brambles away from the makeshift porch of twigs and leaves. She brushed them clear away onto the riverbank. The rain tickled her nose and dampened her hair. She gave a little squeak of enjoyable annoyance and dashed back under the canopy of leaves and branches.

"Probably." Guy answered with a small smirk as his companion flopped rather ungracefully under the shelter of leaves. "It's the river, people come by here all the time."

"Ya don't have much of an imagination do ya, Guy?" Rebecca teased, poking his arm. "Didn't ask ya about the river. Asked if you thought anyone knew about _this_ place. An' I think we're the only ones who know that this," she gestured outwards to the expanse of the river before them, "is the best spot by the whole river!"

"Says the girl who's only seen this much of it." Guy retorted.

"Oh now you've hurt me." Rebecca said, turning over onto her back with her hand over her eyes in true dramatic fashion. "I really mean it. I'm wounded."

"You'll get over it."

"Can't. 'M dead. S'all your fault." She was making him laugh, there were very few who could make the usually sullen seventeen year old smile let alone laugh. She grinned, peeking at him from between her fingers, "They'll find me here come the mornin' an' they'll start weeping an' wailing an' say--"

"Here lies, Becca, we always knew she couldn't take a decent joke." Guy retorted, taking her wrist and moving her hand away from her eyes as he leaned over her.

"Bet they will say something like that." She laughed, but the sound faded on her lips as she stared up at the boy who was both her master and her closest friend. He was smiling down at her. It was the most wonderful smile in the world.

She sat up, shoving him over and breaking the tension. "I don' think it's gonna stop raining anytime soon." She pointed out, bringing her knees to her chest and hugging them. "Think the Mistress is gonna 'ave me whipped for trapping you out here in the rain?"

"Mother wouldn't have you whipped and you know it." Guy said.

"Little mistress wouldn' like that, I can tell you." Rebecca chuckled.

"There's very little Isabella likes now." Guy muttered.

"She's just acting her age. My mum says I was just as difficult as the little mistress when I was her age." Rebecca said with a smile, she had a fondness for the little girl and always had. "Besides, sure she'll enjoy the celebrations tomorrow, been watching the villagers decorate for days. Looks t' be a sight."

Guy merely nodded. The celebration was to mark those who had not returned from the wars in the Holy Land yet, it was also to remember those who never would. Rebecca sighed. Most servants knew better than to mention the King or his Crusades around the young master of the manor, but Rebecca never had to censor herself. Her father was the manservant of Sir Rodger of Gisborne, the fact that the lord of Gisborne had been presumed dead most assuredly meant that Rebecca's own father was also lying dead beside his master. There was a mutual moment of silence as the two reflected on the loss of their fathers. Rebecca was the one to break the mournful quiet, "Found any pretty young girls t' ask t' accompany you t' the celebrations?"

"What?!" Guy spluttered, taken aback at the sudden question.

"Oh, come on, tell me. Chances are I won't know who the hell you're talkin' about anyway." She teased.

He scowled at her, jerking away from her playful nudges, "Don't be such a fool, Becca."

"Well, don't be cross with me just because I know you're dying to ask me t' go with ya." She joked. The idea was extremely absurd, the son of a nobleman could hardly ever fathom asking to be accompanied by his own servant. Rebecca knew that, but at times she wished she could be so ignorant.

Guy looked over at her. Rebecca was purposefully glancing away, her eyes searched for nothing out over the rain flooded river. "I would if I could." He said under his breath.

"Say something?" She asked, turning back to face him.

"Nothing." He shook his head. He saw slight disappointment in Rebecca's eyes, but there was nothing he could do to change that. For some time now he had toyed with the idea that Rebecca cared for him as more than a friend. He wasn't certain how to feel about that. He had always imagined that the woman he would eventually love would become his wife. Rebecca could never be his wife, and to contemplate caring for her as more than a friend was out of the question. Yet he liked being with her. He was not ashamed to admit that no one knew him better than she did, and he was positive no one knew her better than he did. She wasn't the most beautiful girl, but she had a laugh and a smile that could make him grow hot and cold almost at the same time. A simple friendship was better than nothing, and there was nothing unusual or forbidden about a nobleman or woman befriending their servants.

"Rain's stopped." Rebecca grunted as she crawled out of their shelter. She brushed her hands upon her apron. She blushed as she saw Guy staring at her intently. What was he thinking? "C'mon, Guy," she giggled, "Tell you what, since ya can't take me t' the celebration tomorrow ye can escort me back home instead."

"Do I have to?" He groaned sarcastically as he joined her at her side.

"I could always leave you here t' get eaten by wolves. Although I don't think they'd like the taste o' spoiled brat." Rebecca grinned cheekily.

She began to laugh in her usual rough manner as he performed a mock bow and offered her is arm, "My lady?"

"Ain't you just the charmer." She shoved him lightly, but took his arm. "Pair o' rogues, you an' me."

Guy smiled crookedly at Rebecca's pet title for them both. It was entirely merited. Even though they joked and smiled as they walked, both knew they were due to be in trouble as soon as they returned to the manor. They had both slunk away into the forest together. It was only meant to be a quick get away, but they hadn't counted on the rain. They had no real reason to go sneaking about. Everyone in the village knew they were friends, but there was something forbidden about running off to the woods to a secret spot they liked to think no one knew about. It was exciting.

"Watcha thinking about?" Rebecca asked, noticing that Guy had become strangely silent.

"Nothing important."

She shook his arm, "Secrets, hm? Right then, I'll guess..."

"I was just thinking about how much trouble we're going to be in." Guy said quickly cutting her off. Rebecca would often try to guess his thoughts, she did it to draw him out of possible sullen moods.

"Oh, is that all?" She rolled her eyes, "Today's been worth any punishment my mum an' the mistress think up."

"You don't mean that." Rebecca's mother was one for very creative punishments and she had known Guy since he had been a small boy and she was not above giving him a stern piece of her mind either. He wished his own mother didn't approve of it, but Ghislaine seemed to find he learned his lesson, no matter which mother it came from.

"'Course I do." She smiled at him, "You're worth all the trouble in the world." She laughed a bit until the meaning of her words seemed to hit her. Instead of lapsing into nervous silence she managed a devious grin, "What about me?"

"You _are_ all the trouble in the world." Guy sighed as if he had said something particularly sincere. For that he received a choice string of insults from Rebecca expressing just how much she appreciated that last remark. He placed a hand on the top of her head and ruffled her hair, causing her curses to thread into laughter as she tried to shake him off. As she tried to slap his hand away he managed to grasp her hand in his and loop her arm about his once more. That was the end of their brief fight. They resumed walking arm in arm, but both wore smiles now and remnants of laughter would occasionally be wrenched from them.

Rebecca looked over at Guy; contentment, adoration, and affection in her eyes. She felt foolishly happy to the point of giddiness, as she always did when she was alone with him. She could not help but think--perhaps naively--that they would always be this way.

* * *

**A/N: Math is not my strong suit. To the best of my ability I've pegged that the year Guy's and Robin's parents died to be about 1173. Making Guy seventeen at the time. If my dates are wrong. Please feel free to correct me! Anyway as 1173 is the year of chaos I've split it up into seasons whenever there is a flashback to it, and there are many. The seasons are based on when I think Archer may have been born, so I counted backwards about seven and a half months, as Archer was born early. Again, if something seems wrong with my dates or seasons, feel free to say something. **


	4. Robin

IV

Robin

She had only left her master's bedchamber for a moment. She hadn't slept at all the previous night. She had merely lingered in a twilight state of half-sleep. The chair she had been sitting in had not been the most comfortable of places to attempt to fall asleep on. Just before dawn she finally gave up on sleep and left the chamber. Guy was asleep; finally, he had suffered nightmares for the better part of the night and it had taken all of Rebecca's patience to soothe him back to a more peaceful rest. Now all was quiet in the hazy gray of the early morning.

She stumbled, sleepy-eyed down the stairs. She kept a tight hold upon the banister as she walked, yawning and rubbing at her eyes. Her feet led her into the kitchens. Some of the other servants were just waking up as well, although all of them looked more well rested than she did. She splashed some cold water on her face, hoping that would cause her to think more clearly than she was.

Mary, the sharp-tongued maid who had criticized her candle-lighting only a few weeks ago, walked over to her and handed her a dish cloth. Rebecca took it and wiped the water from her face. She nodded a silent thank you to the young woman. "How's the master?" she asked casually.

"Not well..." Rebecca was startled at the hoarseness of her voice. Lack of sleep and frequent tears had temporarily robbed her of her ability to speak properly, "but he's resting now, thank God."

"That's good, eh?" Mary replied.

Rebecca could not help the small, kind smile which spread across her tired and lined face. It was obvious the other maid was trying to cheer her up. She knew that while she was liked among the servants there was always an undercurrent of animosity towards her and her defensive nature towards Guy. A little casual conversation with one of the maids, did serve to raise her spirits slightly as it brought back a feeling of normalcy.

"Think the master'll be back to his usual snarling self?" Mary teased lightly.

She couldn't know the true extent of the damage, as Rebecca was the only servant to tend to him now and, for all of her optimistic nature, Rebecca doubted that Guy would ever be the same again. He was killing himself, it was as simple as that. She wasn't going to say that. Speaking such a thing out loud would hurt her too much. "O' course." She said softly, "I'll sort him out. I always do."

"Jus' make sure ya don't kill yourself over him." Mary said, "You've got t' take care o' yourself too sometime."

Rebecca patted the girl on the shoulder. She was a good girl. "Thanks, Mary." She said sincerely.

Mary smiled at her and left her to get on with her morning chores. Rebecca sighed, letting herself linger in the momentary silence of the kitchen. It would soon be crowded with the rest of the servants. She did not want to be there for that. Besides, she couldn't leave Guy alone for long. She left the room and began to make her way back over to the stairs, feeling considerably more awake than she did when she had first come down.

Before she could place one foot upon the staircase she heard a sharp thud from upstairs; like something striking against wood. An inhuman scream echoed from outside of the manor.

"_Gisborne!"_

That was Robin's voice, she'd recognize it anywhere; however, she did not have time to think over the possible reasons for Robin's sudden intrusion to Locksley, as the doors to Guy's bedchamber were flung open violently. The bedraggled mess of a man looked more dead than alive as he attempted to make his way down the stairs. He looked like a demon from hell. His face was a mask of murderous intentions and his eyes were practically burning with hatred. He held his sword in his hand, but he stumbled as he walked. If he meant to go out to face his enemy in battle, he would be bound to lose in his condition.

"Master!" Rebecca exclaimed, "You shouldn't be down here."

Guy ignored her as he headed outside. Rebecca knew how much he hated Robin, but now was not the time for petty fights. "Master! No! Don't go out there." She grabbed his arm, hoping to pull him away.

He looked at her then and Rebecca wished he hadn't. His hatred, while not entirely for her, was a terrible thing to behold. He did not speak to her. He did not have to. With a brutal shove, Rebecca was sent careening backwards. She fell to the floor where she was helpless to watch as Guy left the safety of the manor.

Almost immediately the rest of the servants came into the hall. "What happened?" One asked Rebecca as she rose to her feet.

"Robin Hood's here." She explained in a panic. "Master's gone t' face him, but he can't...he's not--Robin'll kill him!"

She could see from the others' faces that they were more concerned over Robin's safety than Guy's. Rebecca let out a small cry as she dashed away from the manor. She could hear the others following her.

She stared in horror as she saw the two men locked in an unrelenting conflict. She looked about her, she could not hear most of what was being said among the villagers and servants alike, but she could see that Robin's name was on all of their lips. Guy faltered a bit in mid strike and Robin quickly took the upper hand. Rebecca wanted to look away, she wanted to blot this from her reality. Guy was in no condition to fight, it was some mad energy which gave him the strength to continue on as he did. She could see from the battle and from the equal hatred in both men's eyes that this was a fight to the death. She realized with a despairing heart, that she was the only one who wanted Guy to survive.

**_Summer, 1173_**

The arrow flew overhead with all the sting and annoyance of a wasp. It cut through one of the aprons hanging on the line to dry. Rebecca blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. That would be another afternoon wasted sewing up perfectly good clothing. The maid next to her was chuckling good-naturedly.

"Did you see how far that one went?!" Young Robin of Locksley exclaimed as he dashed over to retrieve his arrow, which had landed a few feet away from the laundry.

"I did indeed, master Robin." The other maid said with a smile as she selected one of the pieces of undamaged clothes to fold into her basket.

"Only ruined another decent piece o' linen." Rebecca muttered under her breath as she took the apron down from the line. She poked at the sizable hole at the center.

"Don' mind Rebecca, master Robin, she got up on the wrong side of her cot this morning." The maid laughed, giggling at the sour expression growing on Rebecca's face.

It had been a month since Sir Roger of Gisborne had been cast out of the village as a leper. To fill such a void in the hierarchy of things, Lord Malcolm of Locksley seemed to have taken to spending most of his days in Gisborne with his son. Most of the servants absolutely adored the young Robin; indulging him in almost every whim. The maids especially doted on the boy, perhaps feeling that because he was without a mother he needed more kindness and patience than any other child. Even Rebecca's mother admitted that while the young boy had his faults he had a heart of gold underneath that roguish exterior. Rebecca seemed to be the only one who did not indulge this golden child's every whim. She happened to be annoyed when her laundry was cut down by arrows, or when buckets of water meant to be used to mop up floors was spilled, or when the brooms were stolen and hidden in unusual places about the manor. To the servants' credit many had tried to give him a friendly talking to, in order to get him to stop most of his wildness, but he hardly listened.

"Sorry, Rebecca." Robin said with a sheepish grin that he thought melted the hearts of any who sought to be cross with him.

"I wish ya wouldn't practice your archery with the clothing, master Robin." Rebecca said with a stern gaze.

"Just having fun."

"Aye, but then I have t' sew up the results of your fun." She pointed to the tear in the apron.

"But I thought girls liked sewing. Isn't that why you're always doing it?" It was a genuine question, the boy meant no offense by it.

Rebecca had to cough to cover up a laugh. "Sometimes I like it, but not every day. Jus' learn t' be a bit more careful o' when you shoot your arrows, master Robin."

"All right, Rebecca." He smiled. That was promptly the end of the lesson, although Rebecca knew that by this time tomorrow he would be up to his old tricks again. She rolled her eyes and headed towards the manor with the torn apron in hand. She might as well stitch this up so that the rest of her day would not be spent repairing torn clothes.

She did not see Robin follow her into the manor, a sneaky grin on his face. He quietly drew an arrow and snapped off the sharp steel end. He ducked behind the staircase as Rebecca turned around to see where the noise had come from. She didn't see anything and so she continued on her way to the servant's quarters. Just as she was crossing the main hall Robin took aim from behind the banister. He lined up his shot so that his arrow would fit between the railing. He fired. The harmless arrow struck Rebecca in the backside. She yelped and dropped the apron, whirling about to find the culprit.

She found the cut arrow on the floor behind her. She picked it up, no longer amused, "Master Robin!" She shouted, "Come out from wherever it is you're hiding." When there was no answer she stomped her feet, "Now, young master!"

The boy peered out from over the staircase, "Gotcha, didn't I?"

Rebecca was far from pleased. She gestured for him to come over to her and he did so. "Why did you do that, master Robin?"

"Just wanted to startle you." He laughed, "You made the funniest sound! You didn't even hear me sneaking up on you!"

"Master Robin, I didn't think it was funny. It hurt." Rebecca tried to explain.

"Oh, come on--"

"No. Shooting arrows at someone is never funny and until you finally realize that," She plucked the small quiver of arrows from his back and held it aloft, "I'm gonna take this from ya."

"You can't do that!" Finally realizing that he was going to be punished for his little trick Robin's voice soon gave way to whines of protest.

It was true, Rebecca couldn't just take something off of the young lord, but she had seen her mother handle rowdy situations when Guy had been a child and she had never been punished for trying to teach the boy good morals. He had listened and not complained. Ghislaine had even approved. Surely it would be no different now.

"You." The booming voice of an angered parent caught Rebecca completely by surprise, "What are you doing?" It was Lord Malcolm and he did not seem at all pleased to find her with his son's arrows.

"She's taking my arrows, father!" Robin complained.

"Master Robin was shooting at me. I tried t' tell him it's wrong t' do such things, but he wasn't listening. I...I thought if he didn't have his arrows for a time, he might learn what happens when he doesn't listen..." Rebecca explained hastily.

"Not that I do not find that a sound idea; when did you decide you had the authority to punish my son?" Malcolm questioned.

"I...I..." She was going to be in trouble for this. Malcolm was not like Sir Roger. While he was a kind man, who had good intentions at heart, he was also fiercely protective of his only son. There was a troubled darkness about the Lord of Locksley she found she did not like. Perhaps it had come from her own prejudices of the man, but she felt he had taken to walking about the manor as if he owned it, ever since Roger had been cast out as a leper. "I was only tryin' t'--"

"Will you not address me as your lord?" He interrupted.

That changed everything. This was to be a simple matter easily solved, easily explained. Why did he have to change it into something bigger? She looked up to the top of the staircase where she saw both Ghislaine and Guy peering over the ledge. They must have heard her yelp when Robin shot at her. Ghislaine was nodding at her for her to speak to Malcom, but Guy was merely staring worriedly down at the scene unfolding before him.

"No." Rebecca said, anger dulling her common sense for just a moment. She was being unreasonable and prideful. Malcolm was a lord and good man, but she viewed him as the one who was the source of the upset in the village and of the order of the manor. She was in discontent, she was frustrated, and she still stung from the blunted arrow Robin had shot at her. She was also a foolish young girl who would one day get her very brains whipped out of her head; or so her mother often said.

"What did you just say?"

"I said no." A strange thrill swept through her. What she was doing was completely out of bounds. She would be flogged for this, but the lashes would be worth it. The look upon Malcolm's face was too good. "My lord and master is Sir Roger of Gisborne." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Guy looking at her. Somehow she could feel him goading her on. It's what gave her the courage to keep her head even as she was beginning to shake in fear of her outburst.

"He is a leper and is no longer master of this manor." Malcolm said.

"I apologize," she said sincerely, ducking her head as if in penitence for her former words, "My master is then Guy of Gisborne."

"I have never seen such impudence in my life. Right then, since you desire to teach others lessons in manners I shall give you one as well. Pack your things. You are to leave this manor by this time tomorrow."

"No!" Guy shouted.

"Malcolm!" Ghislaine snapped. "That's enough."

Rebecca stared hopefully at her mistress as she made her way down the stairs. Rebecca hung her head. She had gone too far. She had overreacted and landed herself in more trouble than a playful shot from a harmless arrow was worth.

"Give Robin back his arrows." She ordered Rebecca gently.

She did so and the boy took them almost reluctantly. In a way, it seemed, he had realized that his actions held consequences. He hadn't meant to cause trouble for anyone. It was only meant to be fun. He would never be so careless again.

"Now dry your eyes, you aren't leaving this manor tomorrow or any day." Rebecca hadn't even realized she had started crying. She wiped at her tears with a shaking hand.

"You would keep a girl who doesn't know the meaning of respect?" Malcolm said rather calmly for such a stinging remark.

"No; although, I would keep the maidservant of my daughter." Ghislaine said defensively. "However her actions today do merit some form of punishment, but I suggest you leave that to me."

Malcolm conceded without further argument. He placed a hand upon his son's shoulder and led him away. Robin looked back at the sobbing Rebecca and mouthed an apology to her. So the boy had a goodness somewhere in him. Rebecca gave him a tiny smile to show she was all right, and then they were gone.

She turned to Ghislaine, her eyes shining with panic and tears, "I'm sorry, my lady! I don't know what I was thinking! I didn't mean it! I swear!"

"Hush, Rebecca, I know." Ghislaine said. "You were ever one to speak your mind, but I would have at least expected more sense from you. You should know your place."

She hung her head, "Are you gonna have me whipped, my lady?"

"No." Ghislaine sighed, "I'd say the scare you received today served as a better punishment than anything I could think of."

"Oh, my lady! Thank you!" She found herself crying again.

"You will mind what you say from now own though. Malcolm is a good man, Rebecca, I know your father was loyal to Roger, but you must try and see what is before you now. You could come to respect Malcolm as you did Roger, I know it."

"Yes, my lady, I will." No she would not, but Ghislaine was trying to keep a hold on the family and home she felt was slipping out from under her, and Rebecca would do anything to give her some sense of security. For her mistress's sake she would curb her temper and her tongue.

"Go and clean yourself up now. Isabella won't like seeing you with tears marking your face." Ghislaine patted her arm gently.

"Yes, my lady." Rebecca replied softly as she turned to exit the hall. She went through the kitchens and out the back door which led out to the servant's quarters at the back of the manor. She heard the sound of frantic footsteps behind her. She knew who it was even before he called out to her.

"Becca!"

Guy stopped as soon as she turned around to face him. His cloak stirred up the dust about his boots. "Forgive me, Guy." Rebecca said sadly, "Don't tell your mother I lied t' her. I meant everything I said t' Lord Malcolm. I did. I meant it! I meant everything!" She grounded out her words from between her teeth, her frustration and anger evident in her voice.

It had been a hard few months for the both of them. It had been a long time since either of them had something to smile over. Guy placed his arms about his friend. There were no servants around and there was no fear of anyone overhearing them or spying on them. Rebecca reacted in kind. Guy kissed her forehead, rocking her in his arms. The tension in Rebecca's body lifted, but they remained in one another's arms fumbling for a sense of peace and normalcy in a life that had suddenly become filled with unrest and uncertainties.

* * *

**A/N: Don't view Malcolm too harshly in this chapter. The fault of everything that happened to Rebecca is almost entirely her fault, but you've probably already picked up on that. **

**If you're doing a double take at the kiss Guy gave Rebecca and her lack of shock at the action, let me just say that a lot happens in between the last flashback of Ch.3 and this one. ;) And it will all be explained....eventually. Hope you are all still enjoying this story!  
**


	5. Outside the Door

V

Outside the Door

Robin Hood was dead and Rebecca found she was the only one incapable of crying. Contrary to what the other servants thought she would do, she did not go to Guy the moment he returned to the manor. She went out to the servant's quarters to be among the others. It was if hearing the grief was as good as expressing it herself. She did not know why she was unable to cry. She certainly felt just as much as any of the other villagers. For many years Robin had been her master too. Yet she couldn't cry.

When the shock left her she made her way back to her master's chambers. She knocked upon the door twice in soft succession. The door was pushed open from the light taping of her knuckles. Curious, she opened it further only to find Guy readying himself to leave the manor.

"Master?" She asked quietly.

Finishing buckling his sword belt, he turned to face her. His eyes like that of a dead man as he stared at her. He said nothing to her. Unnerved by this Rebecca spoke up, "What are you doing, master?"

"Leaving."

"Leaving?" Rebecca echoed, stunned.

"To the Castle. The Sheriff must be told Robin Hood is dead." He said this last with a note of crazed triumph. He was clutching the outlaw's tag in his fist, the leather twine visible beneath his fingers.

"Master, you can't leave. You aren't well enough to go." Rebecca neither whined nor demanded. She stated her case as sorry and unfortunate fact. The man was practically tottering on his feet where he stood. His black shirt was a mess, half laced up and half tucked into his trousers. His hair was unkempt and unwashed. He had dirt and grime smearing his face from the fatal battle with the now dead Robin. His eyes were red from crying. He could barely put two sentences together in his addled state. He hadn't eaten, he had hardly slept. It was a most detestable sight for one who was the most detestable of men.

"Do you think that I care?" Guy said.

"I care, master!" Rebecca replied. Just looking at the state of him made her heart hurt.

"Leave me be, Becca." He sighed, turning away from her.

"You know I can't do that."

Why was he surprised to hear her say that? He should have expected no less from her. Even at the edge of Hell she was still tugging him back from the mouth of the abyss. He wished she would just let him fall. He looked back at her. Rebecca's eyes seemed to be challenging him to break free of whatever curse he had allowed himself to slip into. She was always giving him such looks, but Guy could see beyond the false sense of confidence. She was tired, she looked almost exactly how he felt. He was dragging her into this living hell. Why couldn't she let go? Couldn't she see he didn't want her help?

"I have to go." He said, walking towards the door.

Rebecca managed to slip past him and block the doorway. She stretched her arms out, touching either side of the wall. Guy's eyes narrowed, "Get out of the way." He warned.

"I'll stand here all day if I have t', master."

"Don't make me strike you down for your disobedience." He growled.

"Then do it." Rebecca whispered, steeling herself for the hit.

"You know it doesn't matter what you do." He breathed out slowly as if fighting to gain a handle on his mounting temper. "I either leave tonight or tomorrow. You can't stand there forever."

"I will if I have t'." Rebecca spat back.

"Becca I'll--"

"Beat me? Have me flogged? Turn me from the manor? Which old threat will it be today, master? I've heard 'em all before." Resentment was heavy in her words. "You are ill. You are unfit t' travel t' the kitchens let alone t' Nottingham."

She gave a great gasp when he slapped her. She did not move from her position, but she shook from the force of the blow. He had never struck her before. He had only ever threatened to. "Master..."

"Move out of the way, woman, or I'll break your neck." Murder dripped from his words.

Rebecca had no choice but to stumble out of his way. She had a hand over the red mark which now decorated her face. It stung, but it would fade. She stared up at Guy. He was surely loosing his mind, or perhaps her blind ignorance was catching up to her at last. To her continued surprise, Guy did not brush past her to the staircase. He, instead, paused and inhaled strongly, turning to look back at her. His dead eyes conveyed nothing. If he felt regret for his actions towards his oldest friend it could not be seen; not even Rebecca could detect a trace of it upon his face. "Tell Thornton I relieve you from your chores today." he said quietly, "Take the day to rest."

"Maybe I shoulda been listening t' the others all along." Rebecca said, "Maybe ya really are as cold hearted an' evil as they say. Maybe ya always were!" She saw him flinch at her words and at the betrayed tone in her voice. Good. She wanted that to hurt just as much as his slap had hurt her. He thought he had her under his rule. That he could abuse her in one second, give her a reward the next and she would appreciate it and crawl away like a dog, but she was no trained puppy.

She tore ahead of him and pounded down the stairs, hoping to leave his sight quickly. She crossed the hallway, but paused and marched back over to the foot of the stairs, looking up at him. "Come back safely, master!" She said through gritted teeth, as if resenting the fact that she could not let go of her concern for him. Sometimes she truly despised that man for all he did to her.

**_1191_**

"Alright ya lazy flock o' hens, what's this with this pile o' dirty dishes stacked as high as a mountain? Jenny, ye daydream'n excuse fer a girl, get these washed. Sarah, I see ya back there ya cowardly mite, come o'er here and help Jenny dry. The rest o' ye, tie up those apron strings and get t' work. An' if I hear any idle chatter'n, I'll drop ye into the water trough and 'ang ye with the linen! Becca! I see ya sneak'n off, come here this instant my girl."

Old Gemma Tanner was a coarse as they came. Robin used to refer to her as his battle ax; she was certainly as formidable as one. No one crossed her in the servant's quarters, no one dared. If Gemma gave an order it was done, no questions. She understood the workings of the manor almost as well as Thornton. The two would go toe to toe on mostly every detail concerning the upkeep of the manor. If the two old ones starting fighting again it was usually the highlight of any routine day. Everyone understood that in the servant's quarters, Gemma was in command, everyone that was, save for her foolish daughter.

Rebecca winced at the sound of her mother's sharpened shout. "Mum?" She asked innocently enough as she looked over her shoulder.

The aging woman was giving her a look few servants ever wanted to see directed at them. She marched over to her daughter and gave her a quick yank on the collar of her gray shift, "I thought I told ya t' sweep up?"

"I was gonna!" Rebecca protested. She hated being reduced to no more than a child again whenever she was chastised so publicly. She was far and above a grown woman, but one word from her mother and she was once more a groveling child.

"Then why ain't ya?"

"I was just on my way t'..."

"Ye were going t' see the master again weren't ya?" Gemma guessed with a scowl.

"He said he wasn't feeling well yesterday, I was gonna check an' see if he needed anything." Rebecca explained hastily.

"Oh? An' has the master asked for anything?"

"No...."

"Then mind yer business an' get back t' your chores!" Gemma emphasized her words with a light cuff over Rebecca's ears. From behind them they could both hear Jenny and Sarah giggling. Those devilish eyes turned their gaze over towards them and the pair quickly hushed up and resumed their washing and drying of the dishes.

Grudgingly, Rebecca picked up a broom and went out into the hall to sweep up all the while muttering that she was a grown woman who could decide what she wanted to to when she wanted to do it. A call from upstairs silenced her sullen thoughts.

"Becca?" Guy was leaning over the railing, a question in his eyes.

Like a veil lifting, the gray mood hovering over the servant woman fell away like dust. She smiled up at him, "Master?"

"I need you to do something for me."

"Anything t' get out from under the watch o' my mother." She teased, her mood lightening even further at the smirk he shot at her.

"Go to Nottingham. There's a physician there named Pitts, he lives on Batering Street--"

"Physician! Master..."

"Becca! I need you to tell him to come to Locksley."

"Be back almost as soon as I leave, master!" Rebecca said, hiding her concern, "In the meantime, you should be in bed, if ya feel so sick, master. Shouldn't ware yourself out."

"I'll do that. Now go." Guy urged.

Rebecca took off back to the servant's quarters to stow her broom away in the closet. "An' where d'you think you're going, my girl?" Gemma was there, folding up some of the linen she had taken down form the line.

"As it so happens, mother o' mine, the master _does_ need me. He asked me t' get him a physician an' I have t' go straight away." Rebecca crowed, taking pride in the fact that her master trusted her so much to see after his well being.

"He did, eh?" Gemma raised a doubting eyebrow. "Well then--" A hacking cough interrupted her words. She bent over slightly as the wind was knocked out of her by the intensity.

"Mum!" Rebecca was at once at her side, "How many times do I have t' tell you, ya need t' lighten your work load. You should rest sometime."

Another final cough tore through her as Gemma waved her daughter away. "'M fine." She insisted as Rebecca rubbed her back soothingly. "Away with you, Becca."

"Are you sure you're all right, mum?" Rebecca asked.

"Yes, yes. Cough once or twice an' ye get all out ' sorts. Besides, thought the master gave ya a task t' perform?"

"He did, but I'm not going until I know yer all right. Ye've had that cough for months now, mum."

"You're refusing an' order from him?" Gemma laughed.

"He's the master, you're my mother." Rebecca fired back.

"Glad t' know that on occasion ya remember that." Gemma gave two short closed coughs.

"I'm gonna go now, mum, I'll be back. You'll rest?" Rebecca made her way towards the door.

"Yes, yes, now get going." Gemma said dismissively. Rebecca knew full well she wouldn't rest. Gemma wasn't the type to waste her days in bed, even when she felt weak.

"Right off, t' Nottingham! Love ya, mum!"

"Becca!" Rebecca paused at her mother's final call, "That fool o' a man up there doesn't deserve ya; master or no."

"Mum..." Rebecca rolled her eyes, Gemma often said that.

"I'm jus' saying. I'm your mother. I have t' say it, no one else will."

"Good _bye_, mum!"

"Love ya, my girl. Come home soon, ye ain't getting out o' sweeping those halls that easily!"

***

"Let me take the master his supper, Thornton." Rebecca asked one night. It had been two weeks since the physician, Pitts, had established a quarantine around Guy's room. Ever since then no servant had been able to get near the area, nor did any particular want to. The threat of contagion and fever kept most of the servants to the halls of the first floor of the manor and the grounds surrounding it. No one went upstairs anymore save for the physician.

"You know I can't have you do that. Pitts specifically said no one was to take the master's meals upstairs, but himself." Thornton replied calmly, as he placed a few dishes of food on a small wooden tray.

"He said that 'cause you lot are all shivering out o' fear o' sickness." Rebecca snorted as she tried to reach for the tray. Thornton slid it out of her grasping hands.

"Be that as it may. We are under strict orders, and I can't allow one foolish girl to go about breaking orders because she thinks she wants to see her master." Thornton said.

"But--"

"That's the end of it, Rebecca, if you still feel like arguing we can take this matter up with your mother." Thornton threatened lightly.

"You're a cruel taskmaster ya know that, Thornton?" Rebecca scowled mockingly as she relented.

"You do so often remind me of this." He gave the woman a smile as she made her way from the kitchen. It was dropped as soon as she left the room. He could hear two scullery maids start to chatter from the other side of the kitchen. Their tittering laughter made it obvious as to who the subject of their conversation was. Rebecca had made quite a few heads turn by her behavior these past four years. If she knew it she played ignorant very well. Thornton knew the nicknames that were beginning to crop up around the village. None of them were at all flattering towards a woman well passed any suitable marriageable age. Just into her thirties, Rebecca could have all the common sense of a young girl when it came to Sir Guy of Gisborne. Everyone saw how she practically fawned over him. Everyone knew how she lit up like a firefly whenever he spoke to her, or even looked at her. Everyone knew, save for Gisborne himself. It was the biggest joke among the servants and that gossip spread outwards to the villagers: how Guy had practically taken every young maid in his service to his bed except for Rebecca. She was a whore in name only. It was highly unseemly, but Thornton thought it was also highly undeserving. He sighed as he watched her leave. One day she would realize her foolishness. He just hoped she would be willing to accept her place and find a true life for herself.

Rebecca, meanwhile--oblivious to the circulating rumors, had run into the physician as he was coming down the stairs. "Thornton has the master's supper ready if ya plan on taking it to him." She said casually, gesturing behind her towards the kitchen doors.

"Thank you." Pitts said rather dismissively.

Rebecca seemed not to care at the response, but she paused in mid step and backtracked over to the man. "Sir?" She piped up.

Pitts turned to face her, an inquiring look upon his face. Rebecca came forward, "Sir, I know you're here for the master, an' I would never try t' distract ya away from making him well, but...ya see...it's my mum. She's a servant in the manor with me an'--now she'd never admit this--but she's been sick for months. Coughing an' weak. If...If you could, Sir, just take a look at her. See if she's all right."

"I'm afraid I don't have time to tend to the ills of every body in this manor." Pitts said.

"I know. It would only take a moment, I swear!" Rebecca tried again.

"Why don't you get one of the village healers to see her, hm?"

"She won't go with me t' see them! She's never been sick before, Sir, please. I have a little money if ya--"

"You think your miserable handful of pennies would be enough to buy my services? Get on with you, woman, get back to your chores." Pitts sniffed at her disdainfully as he turned and left her.

Rebecca was dumbfounded. Were all physicians as weasel-faced as that one? She had no choice, but to do as the man had said and get on with her chores.

***

She waited at the bottom of the stairs. Pitts should be coming out of the master's chambers now with the empty dishes. No sooner were those thoughts conjured up in her mind then she heard the creak of an opening door. She ducked under the staircase as she waited for the man to make his way down. He would go into the kitchen's to drop off the plates and then he would retire to a special cot made up for him in the servant's quarters. Rebecca had to resist the urge to trip the man as he came down the stairs. She shouldn't have expected anything less from such a physician. She was a mere servant. Who would help her or her mother? She did not have any money to pay for such services. Justified or no, Rebecca still burned at the way she had been rejected.

Waiting for Pitts to cross the hall towards the kitchen, Rebecca stole herself away from her hiding place the moment he was no longer in sight. She flew up the staircase to her master's bedchambers. No one else would be coming up for the rest of the evening now that Pitts had gone downstairs at last. Recomposing herself, Rebecca rapped upon the door twice in soft succession. "Master?" She said in a hushed and gentle voice. "Master, I know ya don't want anyone up here, but it's only me, Becca."

No answer was given and no sound could be heard from beyond the door so she didn't dare open it herself. "Just wanted t' see how ya were." She went on, "Been worried." No reply.

Rebecca frowned a little, "I know ya haven't been wanting t' talk t' me, an' I know you're ill. Thought ya could use a friend." She pressed a hand against the door as she spoke, her voice carrying in the most gentle of tones, "I know that when I use to get sick as a girl you'd come an' see me an' I'd always feel better so...I just thought..." Her words trailed off into silence. She received no response from the chambers beyond. It was almost as if no one was in there it was so eerily silent.

"Maybe not then." She tried to make her voice sound ruefully cheerful, "You know ya don't have t' be so silent with me. I know things have changed over the years, an' we certainly aren't the same people as we were when we were children, but...nothing's changed for me, master. As far as your concerned, you're still my friend. An' if...if ya ever need me jus' to be there an' listen I am. If ya need anything, or nothing," she giggled lightly, "I just want to let you know I'm still here."

Perhaps that would get her the response she was waiting for. Nothing. She heaved a small sigh, "Or, maybe you've already fallen asleep an' I'm wasting my words." She laughed a little, "In that case I'll be praying ya get well tomorrow like I do every night." She walked away from the door. Even though Guy had not given her a sign that he had heard her words she felt lighter in her soul for having spoken what had been in her heart for a while now. She was confident that even if he didn't have the strength to let her know he had heard her; he had still heard her words, and that's what was most important. She hated the darkness that had filled his soul; the evil that had come and twisted the man she had known. She hoped he realized he wasn't so alone. "Good night, master." She whispered into the empty hall of the darkening manor.

* * *

**A/N: Our first look at Rebecca's mother. As of now, she's only in a few flashbacks, but that might change. I actually enjoyed developing this character. **

**As we all know, that confession of Becca's went entirely unheard as Guy was off in the Holy Land at this time. If Becca seems a bit foolish and out of line in her behavior, she should. She is a bit of a fool. **

**Next part should be up soon! :)  
**


	6. Dead and Gone

VI

Dead And Gone

Sir Guy returned to Locksley Manor just as night was beginning to tinge the sky gray. He entered in much the same bedraggled state he had left the manor. He did not speak as he stepped into the hall. He did not shout for any servant to come and attend to him. He merely climbed the stairs to his chambers. The servants expected to hear him slam the door, shout muffled curses, toss the furniture around, break plates, goblets and any other fragile objects that happened to get in his way. No one expected the utter silence which followed their master's retreat.

No longer needed for the night, the servants retired to their quarters; although no one was near sleep yet. A few of the stable lads sat about on the long table sipping on ale, keeping their thoughts to themselves. The maids sat upright on their cots and chattered together wildly.

"Did you see that gash upon his face? Wonder who gave it to him."

"Who else, Robin Hood of course! Oh, you weren't there you didn't see! I was in town visiting my mum when I heard the news. The Sheriff found the rest of Robin's men. So me an' my mum went to see if it was really true. An' it was! He was really gonna kill them for sure, but then this monk stood up an' tried to stop the whole thing! Then the sun went out!"

"Ya mean when it got real dark? The sun went out...sure it did, Tess." Another maid giggled, "Probably jus' a bunch of clouds passing by."

"No! The sun really did go out! The monk explained it! He said it was called a...a--well whatever he said it was, it was the truth! Anyway, when the light came back Robin Hood was standing up on the battlements!"

"So it's true then? I heard some other people muttering how Robin Hood's alive. Oh, he's really alive?!" One of the maids bounced upon her cot as she tried to sneak closer to Tess to hear her better.

Tess nodded, "Yes. I saw him! Got a handful o' gold off of him too!" She opened a little pouch revealing four gold crowns. Two of the maids gasped at the sight. "Anyway, I saw him go over to the master and cut him with a knife. Coulda killed him if he wanted, but he didn't." Tess looked up and away from the small crowd of girls about her, ""Surprised you didn't go up and follow the master, Rebecca."

Rebecca was sitting apart from the young girls and with the older servants. She turned to look at Tess blankly when she was addressed by the girl. "I go when I'm needed. The master obviously wants t' be alone. I won't intrude."

"You know it's no longer a rumor 'bout what the master did t' Lady Marian." Tess went on, "It's all over Notingham. The master killed her. Guess you can't go about punishing us for speaking the truth now, can ya, Rebecca?" Ever since Rebecca had threatened the two maids for spreading gossip a few weeks prior to Robin's return tensions had been at an all time high. Tess, one of the girls Rebecca had caught, had been nursing a grudge against the injustice ever since.

"Leave it be, Tess." Thornton sighed.

"No, I won't!" She exclaimed, "I want her to apologize to us! We were right! Say it! Say we were right."

"Tess..." Thornton warned.

"What? Just because she worships the ground the master walks on she can't understand why the rest of us don't. Just 'cause she _loves_ him--"

The furious scraping of the chair as Rebecca rose, shaking to her feet silenced everyone. She stared at Tess, her eyes bright with anger, "You foolish an' bitter girl." She said calmly. "You no nothing of what you are saying."

"Do so. We've all seen how ya are with him." Tess snorted, "D'you think he even cares? Everyone knows you're the only one he's never taken t' his bed. He doesn't even know ya exist. You're the foolish one."

"Ya think it's something t' be proud of? T' be one o' his whores? I know ya, Tessy. You were always a good girl. Hard working, an' kind. When you first came t' the manor ya remember how I taught ya how t' sew? You learned faster than any I'd taught. You were a smart girl. That changed when the master first took ya t' his bed. Ya thought you were special. Ya didn't want help from anyone an' ye certainly didn' like it when the master started to look at another pretty maid."

"You can't speak t' me like--"

"You think you know what rejection feels like, hm?" Rebecca went on, "Or what it feels like t' be abandoned; cast aside, thrown away like ya never mattered?" Her voice was rising in pitch. "Ya naive child, ya don't know the meaning o' the word!" The pain and ferocity in her voice caused even the innocent servants to wince at the sound. "Don't go about spreading your hate an' jealousy just cause you were used like any other servant."

She stared at the other maids who averted their eyes from her gaze, "Don't look down all shamefaced. Ya have something t' say to me? Say it then. I know what you call me when you think I can't hear."

"You know?" Mary looked up rather suddenly, disgrace heavy in her eyes.

"'Course I know." Rebecca grunted, "But what was I t' say about it? Better have ya hate me quietly then openly. Least ya respected my ignorance."

There was silence in the room as the girls fidgeted about. Mary was the first to speak, "No one hates you." But the words fell like dust in the silence of the other girls who did not acknowledge this statement.

Rebecca looked at the young woman gratefully, but there was neither a smile nor a word from her. She turned away from the others and went to her cot in the corner. "You'd all best get some sleep." She said hollowly, "It's getting late..."

***

"It's worse than it ever was before." One of the servants commented as she dusted the mantel above the hearth.

"I know." Rebecca sighed as she held two silver candle holders out of the way for the servant. It had been a week since tempers had flown among the staff. While some tried to ignore the whole matter, others tried to mend the gap, realizing that they were all they had in the world and that they had best stick together.

"He still hasn't called for anyone, let alone you." The older woman pointed out. "Aren't you even the slightest bit worried...even if it's for the safety and upkeep of this village?"

"Of course I am!" Rebecca exclaimed, "Believe me when I tell you, I don't know what's going on." She carefully put the candle holders back upon the mantel, "The master he's...he's--it's like he's not there anymore. He's broken.

"He deserves it. Oh, I'm sorry, Rebecca, but it's true." The old maid half apologized to her younger counterpart, but the conviction in her eyes revealed she was not sorry at all. She had been born and raised in Locksley her whole life. Her master would always be Robin and his family.

"I know." She said very quietly, confessing a grave doubt in her heart, "I know he's a harsh and cruel man. I know he's committed crimes, done terrible...unmentionable things." She shuddered, "But...I _know_ him." She looked pleadingly up at the older servant, "I can't explain it...I..." The older woman gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, for which Rebecca managed a small smile.

She shook her head, composing herself as she gathered up the dish cloths she had been using to clean and polish around the hearth, "I do agree wid ya," the older woman said softly, "Something has changed."

"Sometimes, I think it be better if he had never come back." Rebecca confessed painfully, "Seeing how is now. It's killing me. I can only imagine the hell he's in; and I can do _nothing!"_ A sob caught her completely by surprised and she covered her mouth, swallowing any further tears.

"You shouldn't have t' do anything." The old woman grunted, "You've wasted your life for his ungrateful one, Rebecca, and I know if your mother was here today she'd say the same thing. Get away from this place, Rebecca, first chance ya get. Go and find a bit o' happiness. Ya deserve it, same as any."

Rebecca was about to argue that Locksley would always be her home as long as Guy remained there when a guard burst into the hall causing both of the servants to jump. It was a young lad, who couldn't have been more than sixteen or so. He was sweating and panting, he skidded to a halt and placed a hand on his knee to catch his breath. He clutched his helmet tightly in his other arm.

"What's wrong?" Rebecca asked, snapping out of her melancholy haze.

The boy tried to speak, but he couldn't form any words. The old woman went to him, helping to one of the chairs near the empty fireplace. He sat down gratefully. "Rebecca, fetch this boy some water, quickly now." The old woman advised.

Rebecca nodded and went to do the woman's bidding. The boy clutched the old woman's sleeve, "Soldiers..." he gasped, "The Sheriff...I wasn't supposed to see...."

"There now you just rest a while. Get that water in you and then you can talk." The woman hushed.

Rebecca hurried back into the hall, holding a small goblet of water. She handed it to the boy who downed it in one draught. He wiped his mouth upon the sleeve of his tunic, just under his chain mail. "Now," Rebecca sighed, patting the boy's back, "What's got you in such a state?" She said kindly.

"I was supposed to get after Robin Hood to get the prisoners back...for the Irish, but we couldn't find them. Suspect your men will be coming back to Locksley soon." He gasped.

"Well, now, that's a wonderful bit o' news." The old woman grinned even Rebecca managed a smile at that.

"There's more." The boy warned, "As I was crossing back over the ridge I saw the Sheriff and Sir Guy coming down the way as well. I didn't want him to know I had failed so...so I hid myself. The Sheriff was meeting with a troop of soldiers, they were wearing the Prince's insignia. I thought they were going to deliver something to them, but the Sheriff he...he gave them Sir Guy."

"What?" The old woman gasped.

The boy nodded, "I couldn't hear everything, but it sounded like the Prince was gonna have him put in prison, maybe even executed."

"I don' believe it." The woman exclaimed, "What are we gonna do now without a lord of the manor?!"

"I don't know." The boy said, "But I'd get out of Locksley if I was you. Things can only get worse now, I'd best warn the other guards. Thank you for the water." He rose to his feet and quickly hurried out of the manor towards the shed where the other guards were stationed.

"We should tell the others, too." The old woman said, still reeling with shock.

Rebecca wasn't listening. She was staring off in silence, her eyes wide and blank. The color had drained from her face and she looked as if she might faint at any moment. "Rebecca!"

"Yes...the others...have to...I need to sit..." She collapsed into the chair, the strength leaving her legs. It was obvious she would be of no further use to anyone. The woman went away to the servant's quarters, letting Rebecca have a moment of privacy.

There must be a mistake. Perhaps the guard had misunderstood what had gone between the Sheriff and the Prince's soldiers. Maybe Guy was perfectly all right and had only been taken to see the Prince for some matter or other. Or maybe he was tied up in chains and being led, even now, to a dungeon where he would be left to die, or wait to be executed. Bile rushed to the back of her throat. She had not the energy to scream in shock, or to cry in sudden grief. She merely slumped over in her chair, head in her hands. She couldn't lose him again.

**_Early Winter, 1173_**

Rebecca was out by the water trough. While the other servants carried linens back into the manor she brought out a most unusual load. Isabella's favorite little rag doll was getting too dirty to be tolerated. She carried it everywhere and had been loathe to part with it. Rebecca had had to do some rather hard compromising in order to get her to give it up for just a few hours so that she could wash it and dry it. Isabella had agreed to staying up an hour after her usual bedtime. Rebecca was almost certain the little girl had thrown such a fit in order for her to have to make compromises. She was positive that had been the girl's intentions all along. Clever lass she was too, she thought as she carried the doll over to the water.

She washed the rag doll carefully, rubbing out weeks old stains of mud and grime until the colors on the doll's dress shown just as brightly as the day her mother first made it. Taking one of the pegs she carefully clipped the doll to the line. Job well done, Isabella wouldn't even recognize her own doll now. She had already begun to head back towards the manor when a hooded figure darting across the grounds caught her attention.

He was heading for the door which led into the kitchen and he seemed anything but a servant. "Hey!" She called out dashing towards him, "What d'you think you're doing?!"

The figure turned towards him and Rebecca gasped and nearly fell over from shock, "Master!" She whispered fiercely as she recognized the face of the man. "Master, what are you doing here?!"

"Rebecca." Sir Roger of Gisborne gasped in relief that it had only been her to have caught him, "I had to see Ghislaine." He whispered.

Rebecca nodded and quickly opened the door for him and, peering in she swiftly shut it, "Can't go in this way, place is crawling with servants, come 'round this way, master!" She led him around to the shed that was usually occupied with guards. There was no one there at this time of day. "Through here, there's a door that leads to the back o' the great hall."

"Thank you, Rebecca."

"Master, ya shouldn't have come. Ye could be killed for this! Did anyone see ya?!" She hissed worriedly.

Roger chuckled softly, "You worry almost as much as your father did. Let me be concerned for the consequences. Death is a small price to pay for seeing my family again."

Rebecca nodded, "Be careful, master." She urged as the man hurried into his home.

Rebecca dashed around to the front of the manor, she wrung her hands as she entered, intent upon portraying a relatively calm outward demeanor. She nearly ran straight into Guy as he was crossing the hallway. He looked almost as shaken as she did. "Becca," he seemed almost relieved to see her, "Have you--"

"Guy."

The two turned to see Roger step out from behind the staircase. "Father!" Guy whispered, leaving his friend's side to go this father's. "I knew you'd come. I knew you'd fight for us. Isabella and Mother are upstairs. How did you get in? Did anyone see you?"

"Rebecca let me in." He gestured to the mute and pale-faced girl before them. "Guy, listen to me. I think I was seen when I was entering Gisborne. Take your sister, if anything should happen--"

"Nothing's going to happen, Father."

"_If_ anything should happen; leave the manor immediately." Roger warned.

"No. I want to fight. I can protect us!"

"I know you can, Guy, and you will by looking after your sister. Promise me."

"I--"

"Promise me."

"I promise, father." Guy said hanging his head in disappointment.

Roger took his son's head in his hands, "Make me proud of you, my son."

"Guy?" Little Isabella's voice was a mere whisper of surprise, "Is someone out--_Father!" _Too young to be aware of the danger, the little girl dashed down the stairs to greet her father. She flung her arms about him and she was promptly lifted up off of the ground in a fierce embrace. "Have you come back now, Father?"

"Only for a while, my darling." Roger said as he held his daughter close for a moment before placing her down once more. "I'm sorry it can't be for longer." He pushed a few locks of her hair back behind her ears. Rising to his feet once more he gave a nod to his son, "Take care of her."

"I will." Guy said fiercely as he watched his father hurry up the stairs.

"Why can't Father stay, Guy?" Isabella pouted.

Guy took her by the hand led her over to one of the chairs by the fire, "I don't know, Isabella, but everything's going to be all right. You just sit here, hm? And I'll sit with you and you can tell me about all the adventures you had today with Becca." He smiled comfortingly at his little sister.

"Until Father comes back?" Isabella said hopefully.

"Yes." Guy nodded, "Until Father comes back."

"Guy." Becca said, placing a hand upon his arm, "Tell me what to do." Already she could hear shouting mounting in pitch from beyond the manor. She could see from the panic in Guy's eyes he could hear it as well.

"Warn the other servants. Tell them to get out if something happens." He whispered to her.

She nodded and turned to go. "Becca!" Guy grabbed her arm and pulled her back. His lips claimed hers before she could say another word. Their mutual panic receded for a moment in the shared comfort. "Thank you." He said softly as he released her.

As Rebecca ran to fetch her mother and the other servants she could already hear the mob of angry villagers approaching the manor. "Mother!" She shouted.

The servants were already outside of the manor, milling about in a worrisome flock. Some were moving to join with the other villagers. "Mother!" Rebecca shouted again, hoping to find her mother over the chaos.

A loud crash and plume of smoke appeared over the manor. Rebecca turned back around to see flames beginning to flicker out of an upstairs window. Then, all hell broke lose. The rest of the villagers grabbed torches and began to set the manor ablaze. "_No!" _Rebecca screamed as she frantically tried to claw her way through the crowd back to the manor.

"Becca!" It was her mother. She grabbed her arm and reeled her back to her side. "Praise the Lord, you're all right!" She hugged her daughter to her tightly.

"Mother! Mother, they're burning the manor!" Rebecca found herself babbling, "We have t' stop them! We have t'--"

"And get ourselves killed in the process, are you out of your bloody mind?! These men are out for blood now, there's nothing we can do!" Gemma shouted.

"But Guy's inside!" Rebecca wailed.

"There's nothing we can do!"

"_Of course there is!" _Rebecca shrieked, her voice cracking, "Guy! _Guy!" _Her mother had to hold her back in order to restrain her from rushing into the inferno the manor had become. "Let go of me!" She raged, "Let me go!"

It was like holding down a raging animal and the inhuman cries her daughter made tore through Gemma's heart, but her daughter's life was worth more than her master's or his children to her. She knew if she let Rebecca go she would be killed. She couldn't allow that. As the manor collapsed inward upon itself, Rebecca's struggles lessened as the strength left her. She sank to the ash strewn ground, sobbing.

As the smoke began to clear, Gemma forced her daughter to her feet. She coughed, her eyes watering from the fire and the smoke. That was when she saw him standing across from her. "Guy..." He was alive, and so was little Isabella.

She tried to run towards them, but her mother held her back. "It's not your place!" She hissed.

"Mother, what are they doing?" Rebecca croaked, "Why...why is he turning away? Mother? What's going on? They're letting him go, but...but these our his lands. They can't...Guy!" Finally she managed to tear free of her mother's tight grasp.

"Rebecca!" Gemma shouted, alerting the others of her daughter's attempt to flee, "Rebecca come back!"

Naive confusion and panic made her incoherent of what she was doing. She shoved others aside in order to get to Guy and Isabella, they were fleeing to the forest. She had to get to them. Cries of 'Stop her!' went out and two men came up from behind her and grabbed her by both arms.

Another scream tore through her as she kicked out with both legs to force her captors to let her go. "Stop struggling, girl, are you mad?" One of the men grunted.

"Let me go." She pleaded, "I have t' get t' them...Guy!"

She was knocked over the head by one of the men and she fell forward onto her knees. Her vision blurred as she stared at the fading forms of Guy and Isabella. Then everything went black.

* * *

**A/N: And that's how that started....or ended. There's actually a lot more to this particular scene as a lot of things were mentioned that have so far gone unexplained. Answers will come in due time. :) **

**On a side note. I never understood why Guy and Isabella just walked away and I never understood why Robin went to reclaim Gisborne for himself and not for Guy. From what I understood in the episode. Gisborne used to be a part of Locksley before it was awarded to Roger. I know that Malcolm signed over the lands to Longthorn for the time being until he and Ghislaine could marry, but we never actually saw the deeds drawn up and I certianly don't know if Malcolm or Ghislaine told Guy what had happened. Did he know he had been disinherited? Anyway, I found it hard to try and rationalize something I couldn't wrap my head around. If anyone wants to throw light on the situation, this is an open invitation!  
**


	7. Rain on a Clear Day

VII

Rain on a Clear Day

Five days. Five days and no word on the whereabouts of Sir Guy of Gisborne. Locksley seemed to be breathing a sigh of relief. It was a temporary calm before an inevitable storm. The Sheriff wouldn't leave the village without a lord for long. He would find someone to take up residence in the manor. The people could only pray it would be someone with a sense of compassion, but most knew that was only wishful thinking.

Locksley Manor, which had already fallen into a state of disarray since Guy's return nearly four months ago, was sinking further into decay. Most of the younger servants were fleeing the manor. Those that had family outside of Nottingham had plans on leaving the shire. No one tried to stop them. Most considered them the lucky few. Those that stayed did so because they had no other place to go.

The one person that possibly could have rallied the remaining servants together and kept things in order was out of all order herself. Rebecca hadn't slept in four days. She paced about the manor getting more and more disheveled every day. Any soldiers who passed through the village were hounded by questions from the woman. During the evening and into the early part of the night she would stand outside, staring down at the village path as if hoping that by sheer force of will she could summon her master back to her. She had to be led back inside each night or else she would never come in.

Rebecca was brought back to the servant quarters and a blanket was draped about her shoulders. She sat down upon her cot, clutching the corners of the blanket. Half a loaf of bread was thrust into her face. "Eat it." Thornton ordered.

"Not hungry." Rebecca said softly.

"Your lack of appetite is no longer acceptable, Rebecca. I won't allow you to starve yourself." Thornton chided in his usual soft-spoken manner.

"I said I wasn't hungry." Rebecca said firmly, "I'll eat in the morning."

"That was what you said last night." Thornton reminded her. "No more of this. You must have a little something."

Rebecca snatched the bread out of Thornton's hand. She took a bite and chewed with slow and deliberate movements. "Stare at me with those angry eyes all you want, Rebecca, but we can't afford to lose you too."

She lowered her head at that, the anger leaving her eyes. She swallowed the piece of bread and turned the rest of the loaf over and over again in her hands as if contemplating why she was holding it in the first place. "He's...he's not really dead, Thornton, is he?"

"No one knows." Thornton sighed.

"He can't be dead." She muttered to herself, "He can't be." She hiccuped as she tried to stop a sob from bubbling to the surface.

Sympathetically, Thornton handed her a wash rag with which to dry her eyes. Rebecca took it, her hand trembling as she clutched it tightly. The action seemed to break down the dam she had been trying to build. Tears rushed down her face in a torrent. She hadn't cried for Guy yet, now it seemed there would be no end to it. She covered her mouth with the rag as she muffled her whimpering cries. She curled into the blanket in order to hide the shudders which racked her, but there was no hiding the misery which show from out of her dark eyes.

"I know you cared for the master." Thornton said as she sat down beside Rebecca, placing a hand upon her shoulder. He knew more than that, but there was no need to bring such memories up. He remembered when Rebecca and her mother first came to Locksley. Rebecca had been carried in, completely unconscious. She looked as if she had had to have been beaten in order to set foot into the manor. She had had a hard time of it. Locksley Manor had never been her home. Twenty years had passed since that day and in that time many of the household servants had moved on, replaced with younger servants who didn't know Rebecca was from Gisborne. She never spoke of it and neither did her mother. So while the others gossiped and guessed at Rebecca's behavior towards Sir Guy, Thornton knew that it had always been more than it seemed.

"I'm sorry." Rebecca apologized as she stilled her tears, "Don't know where that came from." She dabbed at her eyes with the wash rag.

"No need to apologize." He said as he accepted the wash rag from the bedraggled woman.

"I'm tired." She whispered, "I think I'll sleep."

He nodded. She hadn't wanted her cot in a few days, the fact that she finally desired rest was a good sign. Maybe she would draw herself out of her grieving state eventually. He got up off of her cot and Rebecca promptly laid herself down. She kept the blanket about herself and did not bother with the covers of her bed. Her head touched the pillow and before she knew it the exhaustion of four sleepless nights claimed her.

**_1170_**

Rebecca was sweeping near the front of the main hallway leading out of the manor. She hummed a light, off-key tune to herself as she led the dustbunnies on a merry trail out of the manor. She was very nearly done with her chores for the afternoon and she was looking forward to having a few moments of peace before she had to help her mother prepare the table in the dining hall for supper.

From just outside of the open door she could hear the muted conversation being held between Guy and one of the villagers. She casually eavesdropped, there was nothing being said that was of any secrecy. The young master of Gisborne liked to know the state of affairs of the village, even if he didn't always understand most of the intricacies. His pet project for the week had been to gather a list of crops which were being grown; yarn which was being spun; and pottery and other goods which were being made in the village. He carried a roll of parchment with him to take down notes to find out what was being sold at market and what money was coming back into the village. He often got frustrated if he didn't understand how most of the money was spread about, or what exactly became of it after taxes were collected, but his temper tantrums never seemed to stop him from trying again and again.

Rebecca had always known Guy did such things, but she had never really payed the boy any real attention. That had changed since they had crashed into one another only two weeks ago. She found herself noticing him more. He was a good boy; perhaps not so very smart, but he had a kindness about him. He had tried to assert himself as the master of the manor since Sir Roger had left for the Holy Land just a year ago. He did his best. Rebecca thought he would make a fine lord of Gisborne when he grew up.

She made her way to the porch as she swept the dust out the manor. She blinked into the bright spring sunlight. The villager that Guy had been conversing with was now making his way back to his home. Guy stood reading over the roll of parchment a frown of concentration marking his face.

Feeling in rather high spirits and a bit mischievous in her heart she let out a long sigh which she blended into a low whistle. She placed her hands upon the top of the broom handle and rested her head upon them. "My, my..." she tsked, staring upwards at the blue sky and then straight at Guy as he turned to see who had intruded upon him. "Looks like rain today, no doubt o' that."

"Rain?" Guy scoffed, "Are you mad? You couldn't ask for a brighter day than this one."

"Tell that t' your face then. Your scowling fit to bring a storm down on all o' us, master." Rebecca said cheekily with a matching grin.

"Very funny." Guy mumbled, "Don't you have chores to do?"

"Finished with 'em." Rebecca shrugged, "What are you up to, master, if ya don't mind my asking?"

"Have to go over this." He shook the parchment in his hand, "I think I figured it out."

"Figured what out, master?"

"Look at this." He unrolled the parchment and leaned over a bit so that Rebecca could look over his shoulder at his work, which looked like scribblings to the girl's eyes. "See, this over here," he pointed to one column of writing, "Is a list of what the people take to market every week. And this," he gestured to a second row, "is how much money each person gets for each good or ware they sell. Get it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Sell this get that. What's the last row stand for, hm?" Rebecca pointed to the third and final column on the parchment.

"That's how much each person is taxed." Guy said.

"Right....what's the point, master?"

"Well, I was thinking if I found out how much each person makes by selling this many goods then I could find out a reasonable price to tax them for. So it's not too little or too much." Guy explained in a rush.

"Ya lost me, master." Rebecca shook her head, "But I think it's all rather clever."

Guy stared at her, his eyes narrowing slowly, "Are you mocking me?"

"No." She shook her head, "Oh, all right, maybe a little, but I didn't mean anything by it, master. What are ya gonna do with all this anyway?"

"I was going to show Mother, she'd know what to do about this." Guy shrugged.

"Think it'll matter? I thought taxes was always the same. Always too much, collected always too soon. That's what my mum says." She grinned.

"You don't think that's fair do you?" He asked.

"'Course I don't. I just never figured ye nobles cared." Rebecca shrugged, "Think it's rather nice, but don't ya get tired o' carrying all those notes around?"

Guy clutched the parchment tighter, "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's a beautiful day out an' ya want to spend your time scribbling away on some dusty piece o' parchment. Don't ya ever want t' have a little fun, master?" Rebecca asked.

"What would I do outside?" He was beginning to frown again.

"I dunno." Rebecca shrugged, "Go walk in the woods, go riding, if ya like I could always run into ya again with the laundry and ya could help me with the folding?"

Guy's stubborn scowl actually half cracked at the reminder of their first true informal meeting outside of their daily routines. Rebecca giggled, "See? Got a smile outta you--well, all right, not exactly a smile, more like a smirk, but least that's somewhere."

"You really are very strange, Rebecca." Guy sighed, eyeing the girl with amusement.

"Tell ya what, master, why don't you come down with me t' the river?"

"I..."

"Your scribblings will still be here when we come back. C'mon, master, you're allowed t' have some fun, same as any. I promise I won't be boring company."

"I shouldn't--"

"Ya should. It ain't right that ya go around with a storm cloud over your head all the time. Ya worry about things ya shouldn't now, master. Wouldn't ya like t' take a few moments an' just be?" Rebecca asked. "Bet I can get a smile outta you yet."

It took a moment for a glimmer of interest to spark in his eyes, he regarded her with a mock challenging stare. "Bet that you can't." He said threateningly. Maybe she was right, maybe it would be nice to get out of the manor and go for a walk. He had never had a companion before, save for his little sister and she was far too young to take out in the forest for a walk. Rebecca was his age, and she was certainly far from dull. He had been thinking about her since they had crashed into eachother when they first met. She had seemed rather interesting. What would be the harm?

"C'mon, master, let me just put away this broom an' then I can show you just how wrong you are!"

***

The horse managed to clear the hedge without so much as a hitch in stride. The two teenagers sitting astride the horse roared with laughter as they galloped off down the village path. Guy urged the horse onward and faster while Rebecca clung to him for dear life. The kerchief which she always kept tied about her head had long since been torn away from her in the excitement of the ride. Her dark hair was rapidly unbraiding itself and getting wilder by the second.

The simple walk by the river had turned into a ride as Guy had bragged he was the fastest rider in the shire and Rebecca had had the nerve to challenge such a claim. It no longer mattered if Guy had exaggerated or not, as there was no stopping the galloping horse. They raced headlong into the village. Startling the people and causing a ruckus among some of the stable animals as the horse sped by dangerously close to their pens.

The villagers stared in shock at the sight of their young master racing up the path with seemingly slant regard to his or anyone else's safety. They had never seen the shy and serious boy smiling or roaring in laughter like any other mischievous boy his own age. Rebecca tried to shout warnings to any who nearly got in their way, but most of her words were lost in her own laughter.

They rode clear out of the village and into the forest. For a time they seemed to navigate through the trees rather expertly, but upon coming to a fallen log the horse no longer had the wind for another sporadic leap. The animal came to a stop as they approached and his riders, not prepared for such a motion, were flung from the saddle into the bushes beyond the log.

Rebecca was the first to sit up. She was laughing so hard she could barely sit up straight. Her face was blushing red and she was holding her stomach as she tried to contain herself. She pointed at Guy, "Look at you! You...aheh, you look like you're wearing a tree!" She fell over laughing.

Guy brushed a few twigs and leaves out of his hair as he tried to stop laughing himself, "Well you're one to talk! You've got so much dirt on you it's a wonder I can still see your face!" He gasped for air.

Rebecca dusted herself off, still grinning like a fool. She remained lying on her back, giggling. She heard Guy fall over himself. They both looked over at each other. "That was..." Guy sighed, "Incredible."

Rebecca smiled. Guy had never had much of an opportunity to act his age. He had taken on an overwhelming amount of responsibility which had forced him to grow up faster than he should have. It changed how others viewed him. Even the most sensible of adults often forgot their young master was still just a child when all was said and done. Rebecca had often viewed her master as a taciturn boy, but seeing him like this changed everything. He could be wild, he could invent games which would surely get him into trouble, he could smile, he could laugh. Rebecca realized she was privy to a rare display of open emotion from the boy, it's effect was not lost on her.

The horse gave a tired whinny which caused the pair to sit up. "We should go back now, master." Rebecca suggested sheepishly.

Guy nodded, his good mood far from abating even at the prospect of the trouble they would be in for their reckless ride. The two gathered themselves together as best they could and walked the horse back to the manor. The sight that greeted them wiped the smiles from their faces entirely. Gemma and Ghislaine stood at the door, neither looked pleased with their children in the least.

"What is this, hm?" Gemma said as the sorry pair came forward.

The horse was quietly led away by one of the stable lads as the parents laid into their children.

"Out riding through the village? Guy, I've never heard of such a thing! You could have hurt someone!" Ghislaine shouted.

"Don't you give me such a look, my girl. I'd place my life's earnings that all of this was your idea, you troublemaker." Gemma giving her daughter's ear a quick pinch.

"Were you both out of your senses?!" Ghislaine admonished, "I expected better from you...both of you."

"It was just a bit 'o fun." Rebecca mumbled.

"Fun, she says?" Gemma roared, "Getting yourselves killed more the like. And jus' look at you two, did ya go about sliding around on the forest floor? Ya have more leaves on ya than the ground does in autumn." She pulled a twig from out of her daughter's tangled mess of hair. "Disgraceful, the both o' ya."

"What shall we do with them, Gemma?" Ghislaine said.

"String 'em up by their ankles, m'lady, let 'em dangle there till whatever sense they have left in their skulls drips slowly down into their useless brains." Gemma grunted, crossing her arms.

"I'll ready the chains, then." Ghislaine said, turning to go back inside.

"You aren't really gonna string us up are ya?!" Rebecca squeaked in panic.

Ghislaine gave a small chuckle at the look of fright plastered on both of their faces. "Of course not."

"Then...what are you going to do?" Guy asked.

"I think bed with no supper is most fitting, wouldn't you agree?" Ghislaine said.

"Aye, an' be lucky ya have such a kind mistress, Becca, or I'd be hanging ye from the rafters for the rest o' the night." Gemma said, but there was a sly smile on her face now. "What do ya say?"

"Thank you, my lady." Rebecca bowed to Ghislaine.

"Your very welcome, now go and get yourselves cleaned up." That was promptly the end of the matter. Guy turned to follow his mother back into the manor. Rebecca turned to leave to go around to the servants quarters at the back of the manor house.

As soon as their parents were out of earshot they both looked back at one another. "You were right, Rebecca" Guy said, "This was fun."

"Told ya so, master."

Guy shook his head, "You can call me Guy."

"Wha--?" She spluttered. "Ain't that out o' line?"

"Not if I say it's all right, and it is."

Rebecca mused this over for a bit before drawing up a deal, "I'll call ya by your name only if ya call me Becca. All my friend's call me Becca."

"You have a lot of friends?" Guy sounded a bit envious.

"Actually, I was kinda hoping you'd be my friend, master. Ya don't have t' though...I mean..." Rebecca fidgeted nervously.

"I'd like that." Guy said a soft smile on his face.

Rebecca smiled giddily herself, "Best get off t' the servant's quarters lest my mum get it into her head t' yell at me again." She said with a giggle. "Think I could maybe see ya tomorow, mast--Guy?"

"I'll look forward to it, Becca."

* * *

**A/N: I am in no way a genius with numbers and economics. What Guy was doing with his notes was merely something I drew upon from the point of view of a child attempting to figure out what his parents do. It's not a matter of if Guy was right or wrong. I was mostly doing it to show the difference between the caring and good intentioned child and the callous, oftentimes brutish adult. XD That's my disclaimer and I'm sticking to it. **

**There are a lot more issues surrounding Becca's and Guy's previous and current relationship. I hope you are enjoying the story! Expect the next chapter to up within the next few days. :)  
**


	8. Alive and Well

VIII

Alive and Well

Rebecca had gone to bed early. There was nothing that needed tending to that couldn't wait until morning and she was quite tired from the work she had already accomplished. She had been doing much better over the past two weeks. She had starting eating full meals again and she was no longer keeping herself awake until all hours of the night. She was even smiling again, which everyone took as a good sign. The servants were beginning to feel rather hopeful that she would soon leave Locksley. Maybe she would find a better life for herself elsewhere; maybe, in time, she would forget her former master and all the power he had held over her.

The sound of horse hooves jarred Rebecca into wakefulness. "Did ya hear that?" She said with a sleepy groan to one of the other servants.

The maid shrugged, "Soldiers?" She guessed.

"Maybe." Rebecca yawned, "Best see what it is. Sooner we do, sooner we can get back t' sleep." She stretched and pulled herself out of her cot.

"I have an idea." The other servant said, "Why don' you go an see, since you're up. If it's important..." She rolled over, "Then ya can come back an' get the rest o' us."

"Marvelous help ya are." Rebecca chuckled as she rubbed at her eyes. She reached for one of the candle holders sitting on the mantle near the door. "Be back soon."

She crossed the small space of open ground over to the manor house. She gave a small shiver. It was not so cold out, but clad only in her nightshift even the slightest early night breeze felt like the full chill of a proper wind. She opened the door to the manor and quickly slipped inside.

She walked carefully and quietly towards the main hall. Already she could hear the muffled sounds of voices radiating outwards from the front of the manor. Who would be here at this hour? Maybe it was soldiers after all. In which case they would have no problem at all explaining their business here at this time. Steeling herself for a possible confrontation Rebecca stepped out, the flickering glow of the candle betraying her position to the others in the manor. "Who are you?" She called out, her voice not as strong as she had wanted it to be.

Dark and barely perceptible figures turned to look at her. She gulped, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. "I said who are you? What's your business in Locksley?"

She took a step backwards as one of the figures pushed aside two of his companions and made his way over to her. Rebecca was just about to run when the candle's glow revealed the face of the mysterious intruder. The candle holder fell from her shaking hands and the little candle went out as it rushed to the floor, plunging everything back into darkness. "You're alive." She whispered, nearly choking on her own words.

The man bent down to retrieve the fallen candle. He placed it atop a chest standing near the wall closest to him. "Listening to rumors, Becca? I would never have thought that of you."

Rebecca's hands were covering her mouth and she was staring at the man before her. She could no longer see him so clearly as she could when the candle had still been in her hands, but as she blinked and adjusted to the darkness she could make out his outline. She dared not speak. She didn't think she could. She fought for control of herself. Her first reaction would have been to throw her arms about the man to make sure he was real and not a very detailed hallucination, but she couldn't do such a thing.

"Are the other servants up?" Guy asked her gruffly, not paying any attention to Rebecca's startled reaction.

Rebecca could only shake her head no. "Then get them up. I have men here who need beds for the night."

Rebecca nodded that she would do so. She scurried away, nearly crashing into walls as she went blindly back towards the servant's quarters. Once outside she ran with all speed, the shock melting in her blood as she sped towards the smaller house. She threw open the door and shouted, "Up! Up, get up all o' ya!"

The sound of her raspy yelling awoke all of the servants. Two even tumbled from their cots at the sudden sound. "What in hell's name are thinking, Rebecca?" One grumbled, "Shouting at such a..."

"The master's back!" Rebecca spluttered, "He's alive. He's standing in the hallway! He's back!"

"What?"

"Knew it. Knew it. She's gone mad."

Rebecca was shaking the few maidservants in the room awake, "He's got guards with him. They need beds. Up with you, all o' ya!" She clapped her hands, finally seeing some of the girls stir to life.

Candles were lit and soon a yawning and stumbling troop of maids were making their way over to the manor. Rebecca was making her way over to the opposite room to wake the men from their sleep. With the household now fully awake again, Rebecca made her way back to the manor house.

Rebecca watched with approval as the servants led the four soldiers from the Castle to their respective quarters out in the shed usually kept for Guy's soldiers. The candles above the fireplace had been lit and the room now glowed with a honeyed light in the darkness. "Becca," Guy called her from the balcony on the second floor. "I need to speak with you."

"O' course, master." She was stunned at the almost civil tone he had taken with her. She hurried up the steps to meet him. He led her into his bedchamber and quietly shut the door.

Rebecca stood in the center of the room staring at Guy, questions in her eyes. For a man who had been rumored to be dead or rotting in a dungeon he looked far better than he did before he had been captured. Yet there was still a haunted and sorrowful look in his eyes and judging by the dark circles under them, he had not been sleeping. Rebecca didn't know what to do. Seeing him standing before her was surreal when she was trying to come to terms with his death. She didn't if she should laugh or cry. Neither would be appropriate and both would likely get her thrown out of his presence. She stood mute and as rigid as a statue. The strangest thing of all; however, was that Guy seemed almost equally out of sorts with her as she did with him.

"No questions?" He hazarded.

Rebecca only shook her head. Guy raised an eyebrow, "That's not something I thought I'd ever hear from you."

Was he making a joke? He had either lost his senses or he had suffered some grave disappointment and he was teasing her in order to gain some sense of normalcy to make up for the difference. Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but no sound emerged at first. She settled for a raspy nearly audible whisper, "I thought ya were dead..."

"Rumors." Guy shrugged enigmatically.

Silence fell again between the awkward pair. Rebecca glanced down at her feet, hoping he would say something to break this tension. "I'm under the Prince's patronage now." Guy announced.

Rebecca did look up at that. "That is...good..."

"Not if I fail him." He muttered, Rebecca took that as a sign he might have already. He shook his head, turning back to his servant, "That is not the point now. The Prince is coming to Nottingham. He should be arriving in a matter of days. His soldiers will be stationed here as well as in Nottingham. I'll need you make the necessary arrangements to accommodate them in the village."

Rebecca blinked, not entirely certain if she had heard him right. He had just appeared from the dead and he was giving her such mundane orders as if he had only gone out to Nottingham for the day only to return later that same evening. She tried to keep from spluttering in her confusion. "I...I--shouldn't ya be telling Thornton this?"

"I will speak with him as well." Guy said.

"That's it?" Rebecca questioned, "That's all ya wanted t' tell me?"

"There is another matter, but it can wait." Guy muttered.

Rebecca stood unmoving in her shock. "Well?" Guy said impatiently, "That's all. You're dismissed."

"Dismissed?" She echoed.

"Yes. Go." He waved her away.

She felt something give way within her, as if a barrier had been snapped. She had grieved for this man. She had made a misery of herself for his sake. He had been gone for weeks and he regarded her with little care. Did he not think she would be even the slightest bit shocked or relieved to see him home and alive? Clearly not judging from the impatience beginning to shine in his eyes as he waited for her to go.

"Master, how long have we known one another?" Rebecca asked softly.

"Over twenty years...why?" Guy was feeling a bit uneasy at the disappointed light in Rebecca's eyes.

"An' it didn't cross your mind that after you've disappeared for two weeks I might be worried?"

"I don't have time for your games tonight, woman. What is it that you want? Tell me and have done with it." Guy sighed, crossing his arms.

Rebecca's cheeks flushed with a surge of anger, "What is it that you see when you look at me, master? Jus' humor me. What am I t' ya?"

"You're my servant." He sighed, rubbing at his temples, "My most loyal and trustworthy and oftentimes, most annoying servant."

Rebecca nodded silently and made her way to the door. She opened it, but Guy caught it and stopped it from opening half way, "What did you think I would say?" He growled out, knowing a trick when he saw one.

"Nothing." She replied, "You said exactly what I thought you'd say."

"Becca..."

"My name is Rebecca." She spat at him, startling herself with the ferocity of her own words. She had never raised her voice to him before. For once Guy seemed taken aback, the irony was not lost on Rebecca, it seemed to be the first time he regarded her as human in a long while. "It's Rebecca, master," she said with cooling fury, "Not woman, not girl, not idiot, an' not Becca. Not t' you; not anymore." She shoved her way out the door and hurried her way down the stairs. She didn't dare look back knowing that if she did her resolve would crumble in an instant. She must run while she still had the will, before she still remembered she loved him. Although tonight, she realized for the first time, it was hard to remember why.

**_1183_**

"Some o' the maids ain't too happy about getting a new master o' the manor." Rebecca joked to her mother, she chuckled a little, "Jenny's been crying fit t' fill a bath."

"Seems t' me all I hear is how the others feel about the new lord. You haven't said a word as t' how you're takin' it, my girl." Gemma asked coyly.

Rebecca shrugged as she focused on tying her hair back up into a ponytail, "Suppose I don't mind." She admitted, "It's not like Robin won't come back from the Holy Land eventually, eh?"

There was an awkward moment of silence after Rebecca's foolish words. "Sorry, mum." She said softly. Gemma waved her daughter away, "Know what ya meant, Becca, no harm in speaking your mind."

"What's odd t' me is that no one knows who the new lord is." Rebecca mused, attempting to drag the conversation off in a different direction, "Think word would have been sent, hm?"

"What isn't odd in this shire nowadays? New Sheriff, new guards. I don' like it, but it's not my business t' question it." Gemma frowned as she helped her daughter braid her hair.

"Things'll work out for the best." Rebecca said confidently, "Your words, mum, not mine." She grinned back at her mother with a cheeky smile.

Gemma found herself smiling too. "Oh," She suddenly turned away from her daughter and went to a small cupboard beside the chair. "I nearly forgot. I went out this morning t' the gardens an' I bundled up the prettiest collection o' flowers you'd ever hope t' see." She showed her daughter the bouquet of flowers she had tied together with a piece of string.

"Oh, mother." Rebecca gasped as she took the flowers in her hands, "They're beautiful."

"I thought...seeing as what day it was, that..."

"He would have loved them." Rebecca mused with a smile even as her lower lip threatened to tremble. She touched the delicate flower petals as if she was passing her hand over a rainbow. "I," She announced getting up suddenly, "will take these t' him right now."

"All right, Becca." Gemma said softly as she watched her daughter head out the door.

No sooner had her daughter gone out then a commotion could be heard just outside. Curious, Gemma left the servant's quarters of Locksley Manor and headed over to the village square. A troop of soldiers from the Castle were riding into the village and the people had gone out to see what was going on.

She gave a rude sniff at the sight of the new Sheriff of Nottingham. No one liked that man, he seemed to take a great enjoyment out of the higher taxes and stricter punishments he had enforced ever since the old Sheriff had been removed from his position. If it had been in her power she would have liked to give the man a good piece of her mind, as it was she lowered her head and muttered breathless curses as he rode into the square.

"People of Locksley," He spoke, smiling a grin which Gemma found entirely loathsome to behold, "I come as a messenger of good news for you all." This was something Gemma highly doubted, "Since your lord left for the Holy Land six months ago you have been left without a master. A fact that the old Sheriff seemed content to over look. Perhaps he had gone soft and believed the people could be left to look after their own interests." He laughed, he was the only one to laugh.

Gemma felt a hand descend upon her back, she turned to see her daughter beside her. "What's going on?" She whispered. Gemma merely placed a finger to her lips and directed her attention back to the Sheriff.

"Well, fear not, my simple people I have given governance of these lands to my most loyal and faithful knight." The Sheriff gestured to one of the men who had ridden in alongside him. "Sir Guy of Gisborne will be overseeing the Locksley estates until Lord Robin returns from his Crusades."

Whispers spread through the village like wildfire. All eyes were now fixed on the man in black beside the Sheriff. The Gisborne name was infamously known in the village of Locksley. His father had returned from the wars a leper and had placed the lives of all his people at risk. His parents died in a fire which was rumored to have been set by Guy himself. He was of mixed blood, his mother having been French. He was not one of them. He looked just as villainous as his master and the triumphant smirk upon his face did nothing to improve the peoples' forming prejudice against him.

"Mother?" Rebecca's voice shook with uncertainty. She could not have heard the Sheriff correctly.

"It can't...." Gemma whispered.

"Mother?" Rebecca asked again. She was staring right at the man who had been introduced as Sir Guy of Gisborne. It could be him. There was no reason why not. Only, Guy had abandoned his own lands nearly eleven years ago. How could he turn up out of thin air only to govern the estates of the family who had ruined him?

The Sheriff clapped Guy on the back. "Well, I'll just leave you to the introductions shall I?" He said with another wicked laugh. Rebecca regarded the Sheriff with a strange glance, as did some of the other people. This man seemed to find toying with the lives of the peasants of the shire to be a great game; they existed only for his sadistic enjoyment. He rode away, but the soldiers remained and it was then the villagers realized that this was Sir Guy's personal guard. The amount of men was staggering; far more than any guard Robin had stationed in Locksley. This was a small army. It was meant to terrorize.

There was silence as Sir Guy was left with his villagers. He regarded them with cool interest as he finally spoke, "As you heard from my lord, the Sheriff, I am to be your new master," he sneered, "There are only two things you need know about me: obey me and we shall get along well; cross me or seek to defy me and there will be consequences. Your old lord was weak minded and soft. There will be order and discipline in this village now. I can either be your ally or your taskmaster." He smirked as if the idea of becoming friends with these people was highly intolerable, "The choice is up to you." Although everyone doubted that they had a choice in the matter.

Sir Guy rode past the dazed people and straight on towards his new manor. Rebecca and Gemma exchanged glances. Rebecca shook her head, "It's not him. It can't be." She said, "That's not the Guy I remember."

"I pray that you're right, my girl." Gemma sighed, "If not, God help us all."

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**A/N: This flashback comes in two halves. The other will pop up in a later chapter. :) **

**Do review and let me know what you think. I don't say this enough, but critique is always welcome don't be shy about it. **

**Next chapter should be up within the next few days!  
**


	9. Learning to Hate

**Sorry for the delay in updates! Had a bit of writer's block, but I'm working through it!

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IX

Learning to Hate

Guy could hardly remember a time when he had been so infuriated with Rebecca. She had always been obedient, (at least wherever he was concerned), and she never questioned his orders. Often she would forget her place, but never so boldly as she had last night. Sometimes she needed a swift reminder that she was no longer in a position to speak to him as if they were childhood friends sharing harmless and mischievous secrets. Why she insisted on shaming him he didn't know. He should have her flogged. This was what he had resolved himself to do upon rising that morning. He would march down straightaway, drag her from the manor, tie her to one of the posts in front of Locksley and have her switched from dawn until whenever he deemed she be cut down. This image soothed his anger as he stormed from his room.

Everything was an uncertain mess. He had the Prince's patronage, he had finally freed himself from the Sheriff's clutches. How had he repaid his new master? By failing at the first task that had been set before him. He tried to assuage his shame over his failure. It was not his fault that Robin Hood would forever prove as allusive as a shadow in the night. The man had the devil's luck. He should be dead countless times and he still managed to avoid execution. When the Prince arrived in Nottingham he would have to beg to be allowed to continue his hunt. Eventually, he would capture Robin Hood. He would have to, for now he was playing at an even deadlier game. The Prince was not like the Sheriff. Guy was positive he was halfway out of his mind. It was not his position to question the sanity of Prince John, though, he followed the orders that would give him power and standing in the twisting political waters of the court. A mad prince was no concern of his, that was, unless such madness seek to destroy him.

As if the coming of the Prince was the least of his newfound worries, he now had an equally pressing matter to attend to. This was a problem he never thought would ever crop up to become a thorn in his side. He kept telling himself he was paranoid, that there was no reason to even bother placing so much concern on this personal matter, but there was something most assuredly wrong and he had come too far and suffered far too much to see everything fall to ruin because of a familial nuisance.

Unfortunately there was only one person, perhaps, in the whole of Nottingham who Guy trusted enough to handle this grave situation. This person who no longer even wished to speak to him let alone follow one of his orders. Guy had prepared a mental argument in his mind as he walked down the stairs. He was steeling himself for a battle.

The dragon he sought to do battle with was just coming around the corner, out of the door which lead from the kitchens. Rebecca paused and looked up at him with a cool glance which burned with fire. He gulped at such a look, but then shook his head. Why should he feel ashamed of himself? He had yelled at her before and never once felt a drop of guilt over the exchange. So why did the most natural course of action feel like he should just open his mouth and say--

"I'm sorry."

Rebecca turned around at the sudden outburst. Guy looked away from her, as if he could not believe the words which had left his mouth. "What?" She was genuinely taken aback by his words.

Guy stared down at the last step of the staircase. "You heard me." He grunted. He would not repeat himself, for to do so was to truly admit he had lost his sense and gone soft over a mere servant.

Rebecca stared at him, her eyes searching his for a moment or two. For all of the anger and resentment flashing to the forefront of her dark eyes she could not hide the deeply rooted affection she felt for him from her gaze. She still looked at him as if he was a ghost. He had only returned from the dead a day ago, he could not fault her for that.

"I wasn't looking for an apology from ya, master, if that's what ya think." Rebecca snapped.

"I know that." Guy shot right back.

"Just 'cause ya say you're sorry now doesn't mean I'm gonna forgive ya." She said warily.

"I know that you stupid--" Guy paused and licked his lips. An insult would get him nothing, and he needed this order carried out.

"If that is all, master?" Rebecca gave a small little bow, Guy could have winced at the mockery in the gesture.

"No that is not all." Guy barked. Rebecca raised an eyebrow in interest. "There is something I need you to do for me."

"I have already tended to the rest o' the servants, master, they know the Prince is coming. They are making the manor ready for him should he chose t' stay in Locksley for a time." Rebecca said curtly, parroting back his orders from the previous night with all the enthusiasm of a trained bird.

"There is something else I need you to do." Guy cut in.

"What would that be, master?" Rebecca crossed her arms.

Now that he had her attention, how to formulate the proper words to explain this? "Yesterday there was...a complication."

"Complication?" Rebecca echoed, curious of his meaning.

"Of a sort. This was something I thought I had taken care of years ago." He was making a fool of himself. Rebecca was not just another servant. She knew of whom he was alluding to. He should just tell her and have done with it, "My sister is back in Nottingham."

That got the woman's attention. She dropped her arms back to her side. "The little mistress?" She gasped. Of course Isabella would be nothing less than that to Rebecca. Why did he think this would be difficult?

He pretended her shock meant nothing, "Yes. She is under my care for now and she will need--"

"It is done." Rebecca blurted out knowing what he would ask of her. "Master, why did ya not tell me so before?"

"Because you were choosing to be difficult last night." Guy said.

"It was words which needed speaking, master. I'll not take 'em back." Rebecca said, her happiness at hearing of Isabella's coming to Nottingham vanished in an instant at Guy's reversal back to last night's argument.

"You're as stubborn as you are stupid." Guy said, feeling his anger roused again.

"Aye." Rebecca nodded, "But what I don't understand is what I ever did in all my stubborn stupidity t' make ya think I was worth nothing."

"You think my treating you as any other servant meant you were worth nothing?" He laughed, "Rebecca, you have been having delusions of grandeur."

She glared at him. "You don't think that in the lifetime I've known ya I didn't deserve some respect? I never expected ya t' look as me as a friend once ya came t' Locksely, but I at least thought I had earned some respect as a confidant if nothing else."

"You never could accept that things had to change." he growled out, feeling shame rising in him once again. "There are things that--"

"There was nothing ya could have confided in me that would have made me hate ya." Rebecca said, her voice cracking as she tried to keep a reign on her temper. They were not shut up in his room. Somewhere some sneaky maid or servant boy was bound to be listening to this. "It was only your silence which made every day here intolerable!" She shouted at last.

"Becca..." He slipped back into her nickname even though she had asked he never call her that again. He couldn't have prevented the slip. The indignation in her eyes was tangible. How had he never seen it before?

Rebecca shook her head, not yet ready to hear his excuses or all of his apologies (if there were any.) "I will do what I can t' help with the little mistress. Not for your sake, though, master, but for your sister's. Good day, master." She bowed once to him and then moved on with the rest of her chores.

Guy stood in silence at the bottom of the staircase staring off after her. It was then he realized for the first time since he had been a boy, how alone he felt once she had gone.

**_Winter, 1173_**

Guy tried not to think as he ran through Sherwood forest. Thinking was too painful. All he could see in his mind's eye was Gisborne Manor engulfed in flames. Flames that he had started. Everything had turned to smoke and ash and in his fear he couldn't face it. He couldn't handle the reality that had so swiftly turned him and his sister into orphans. He turned his back on it and walked away. Now, as the realization that he was not only an orphan, but a murderer as well began to sink in he had started to run.

"Guy!" Isabella squeaked as she tried to keep up with her brother, "Guy, slow down, please!"

He couldn't slow down. He had to get away from Gisborne, away from Nottingham, away from everyone who had shunned him from his own home. He was certain Longthorn would send soldiers for him. He was as good as an outlaw now after what he had done. He had to keep running.

"Guy!" Isabella wailed, "I can't run anymore..." The girl slowed her frantic pace to a slow walk, dragging her tired feet across the forest floor.

Guy turned around, seeing the distance he had put between him and his little sister. He thought he had been holding onto her hand all this time, but he must have let her go in his panic. He dashed back over to her and lifted the girl up into his arms and continued on his way. Isabella clung to her brother. "Where are we going?" She sniffled. She may be too little to understand the severity of their situation, but she was not so young as to realize that they had lost their parents.

"Away." Guy said breathlessly as he tried to regain his former pace, but that was impossible with his new burden.

"I don't want to go away." Isabella whined. "I want to go home!"

"We can't go home now, Isabella."

This was unacceptable news, "No!" She began to struggle in her brother's arms. "I want to go home! I want to go home!"

Guy tried to hush his sister, but Isabella was past the point of being coddled. She wanted something she knew she could not have, and she did not understand this. Her whines and shouts turned into tears and Guy had to put her down again. "We'll rest here for now." He sighed.

Isabella wasn't listened. Guy tried to wipe away her tears, but she squirmed away from him. "Stop crying, Isabella, you have to try to be brave now."

"I don't want to be brave!" She wailed, "I want to go home. I want Mother and Father!"

"I know, Bella, I know." Guy hushed.

Isabella shoved her brother away as he tried to hug her. "It's your fault!" She accused, her face crinkling up in anger. "You tried to hurt Malcolm with the fire. You did this!"

"No...no, it was an accident." Guy shook his head, "I was trying to protect you; to protect all of us." But he hadn't. He had killed everyone and he was the reason he had lost Gisborne.

"Go away!" Isabella screamed, "I hate you!" She didn't mean it, but she had to blame someone for her grief and Guy was the only one she could blame.

"Don't, Isabella..." His sister was all he had left. He couldn't bare her hatred too, even if it was only a child's grief.

She huddled up against the trunk of a tree, trying to inch herself away from Guy as much as possible. "I want Becca." She sniffled, her cheeks ruddy with tear stains and smoke.

He did too. She would know how best to handle Isabella. She could calm her and assuage her fears. She would calm his too, but what was the point in thinking of her? She was back in Gisborne and he couldn't go back there...or could he?

"Isabella," He knelt before his sister trying to get her to look at him, "Isabella, listen to me."

"Go away!"

"What if I went to get Rebecca? Would you like that, Bella?"

Isabella did look at Guy then, she nodded slowly. "You will have to stay here while I go. Do you understand?"

"I understand." Isabella said, her face grave.

Guy removed his cloak and draped it over his sister like a blanket. She clung to it and pulled it tightly about her. "Stay here, Bella, I'll be back."

"With Becca?" Isabella added, her voice trembling.

"Yes, with Becca." Guy smiled at her comfortingly even if he felt little confidence in this endeavor. He looked down at his sister one last time before he ran back to Gisborne.

He was doing this for himself as much as he was for Isabella. It would not be hard to find Rebecca. She would probably be with the rest of the villagers trying to clear the wreckage of the manor, or helping the others with the shock of the sudden loss of their masters. He doubted it would take much convincing to get her to come with him and Isabella. She would bring a sense of home with her, a sense of normalcy to all their lives.

Smoke still hung over Gisborne like a cloak of death. Guy felt himself grow dizzy as he caught sight of the burnt out embers of his home. He could not take but a few more steps before he fell to the ground and wretched in the realization of the destruction he had caused. He was a shaking wreck when he once again rose to his feet. He couldn't look at the ruins of the manor. What kind of man kills his own parents? He caught sight of the villagers as they trudged about trying to clean up the ash-strewn village. He narrowed his eyes as he watched them. Not like any of them tried to help him. They had rushed in with torches as well and escalated the flames. He never knew that they had grown to hate him and his family so much. Well, if they could hate so could he. It was a strange and uncomfortable feeling to hate so much. He was unaccustomed to such violence, and it felt as if he was being stabbed with a white hot sword.

He tried to scan the area for any sign of Rebecca, but he was unnerved to not see her or her mother anywhere. He needed information. He crawled his way over to one of the villager's homes. He unsheathed a dagger he wore at his side. It had been a gift from his father when he had been twelve, and it was the only weapon he had to his name. He might need it. He entered the small hovel and was relieved to see that no one was inside. He hid himself in the corner and waited for the peasants to return.

He did not have to wait long. An older man entered his house, wiping his ash covered hands onto his trousers. He had come back to fetch some tools to clear away the larger pieces of rubble. He had been expecting to find his old master waiting for him. He jumped back, a cry of surprise upon his lips.

Guy clumsily lunged for the man, bringing the dagger up this throat. His eyes were wide and his hands shook as he tried to steady the blade. "S-s-scream and I'll kill you." He choked out.

"I'll not scream." The man whispered quickly realizing his situation.

Guy did not remove the dagger, "Where is Rebecca Tanner?" he asked. If the man just answered him quickly he would leave.

"Rebecca?" The man questioned. Why did the master want anything to do with the servant girl? He felt the cold prick of the knife against his throat and suddenly he found it better not to question, but to answer, "She..she's gone to Locksley Manor. Master Robin took her and her mother with him."

"You're lying." Guy hissed. Rebecca would never to go with Robin.

"Swear to you that I'm not!" The man said. "Master Robin is the new lord of the manor now. Gisborne is part o' Locksley now."

"No." The blade shook in Guy's hands as a bolt of rage surged through him at this information.

"Please, my lord." The man pleaded, "Let me go. My wife an' I never helped with the fire. Please, if you leave now, I won't tell a soul you were ever here."

Guy shoved the man away from him. "You think you're so noble." He spat, his blade still pointed at the man, "Just because you didn't help burn my home to the ground. Where were you then when I was forced from these lands like an outlaw?! No, you were ready to stand with your _precious _Robin of Locksley." His face contorted in bitter rage. Anger robed him of the ability to speak further. He dashed from the villager's home like a blind man. He pushed the man out of his way in his haste, causing him to strike his head upon the wall opposite him. He fell to the floor unconscious.

Guy stumbled straight into the heart of the village. People stopped and stared at their former master. Guy looked at them all, his gaze veering from the bitterest anger to a plea for sympathy. One woman looked at the knife still in his hands and glanced at the home he had staggered away from. "He's gone an' murdered Thomas!" She shrieked.

"No, I didn't..." But his own voice slipped away from him as he noticed the hate filled looks the people were shooting at him. "I..." He watched as one of the villagers dashed into Thomas' home.

"He's all right." The man announced as he ran back out, "He's just hit his head. He's alive."

Guy thought this would take some of the edge off of the peoples' anger, but nothing changed. He tried to search the crowd for Rebecca or Gemma's face, but he did not see them. Maybe Thomas had been telling him the truth when he said they had gone with Robin to Locksley Manor. Why? Why would Rebecca leave so suddenly and so easily?

"You'd best clear out of here." One of the villagers said, "We don't need anymore trouble from your family."

Guy couldn't understand. This had been his home. He knew these people and they had known him since he had been a small boy. He always knew that there had been an undercurrent of resentment towards him because of his French blood, but he didn't know just how deep such resentment and anger went. "You'll pay for this." He snarled at the villagers, "All of you. One day I'll come back, you'll see. I'll make you bleed for everything you've done!" In his hatred tears were falling down his face. He could do nothing to stop them. He wished he could hurt them all the way that this hatred was hurting him.

He ran from Gisborne before the villagers could think to advance upon him and force him from the land. He had meant what he said. He would return one day and reclaim what was rightfully his. It was the only thing he had left to believe in. His father had taught him loyalty and honor, but what good were such qualities with the rest of the world sought only to deceive and betray? He could not even depend upon friendship, not anymore. He couldn't go to Locksley to get Rebecca. Perhaps he had been wrong about her as well. He didn't want to believe this; he found it impossible, but it was so much easier to hate everyone and everything that had to do with Gisborne he found his heart willing to turn his rage towards her. After all, if Rebecca had truly cared for him she would never have gone to Locksley willingly.

Guy fought to calm his mounting anger. It wouldn't be fair to Isabella if she saw him like this. He had to protect her now. She was the only family he had. As he approached the place he had left his sister, he saw her stir. She was bundled up in the cloak, her head just poking out. "Where's Becca?" She asked.

Guy shook his head, "She's not coming."

Isabella looked up at him in confusion for an instant before starting to cry. Guy wished he could hide behind such childishness and cry as openly as she could, but he had to be the strong one now. He sat down beside his sister and took her in his arms, hushing her. "It's all right." He said, "It'll be all right, I promise."

"Guy?" Isabella hiccuped, "I'm sorry about what I said. I don't hate you."

"I know, Bella."

"What are we going to do?"

"We'll figure it out tomorrow, hm? Why don't you just rest now?" Guy sighed. He felt Isabella nod her head against him. She curled up against him, offering him half of his cloak to share.

"I'll try to be brave for you." Isabella whispered. "Really, I will."

Guy managed a small smile at that. He was lucky to have such a strong little sister. They would find a way through this hell, he would make sure of that. Guy kept watch as Isabella dozed beside him. He would wake her in an hour or two and then they would have to move on again. He couldn't have slept even if he wanted to. Every time he closed his eyes he saw fire and heard the taunting voice of Longthorn ringing in his ears, _That's right, go back to where you came from. News of your father's death won't have reached France by now!_

That was it. France. Back to their mother's home! They could find a welcome there surely? Although Guy was no longer so certain of anything anymore. The wind howled through the forest. They would have to find a warmer shelter before nightfall or they would freeze to death; not that anyone would care. They were truly on their own now.

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**A/N: Things are about to get twisted, both in the present and in the past. Please do review and let me know what you think. :)**


	10. Isabella

X

Isabella

It was the middle of the night when Rebecca heard the sound of horse hooves pounding their way into Locksley, but it was late, and in her sleep-addled state she wasn't certain if she was dreaming it or if it was real. Her first instinct was to light one of the candles on the mantel and go investigate. Her body had other ideas. Exhausted from the many nights previous she had spent awake, her mind only craved sleep. She found she could not move. The noise faded and Rebecca discredited the notion that the sound had been real and promptly fell back to sleep.

She awoke late the following morning, but more refreshed and alert than she could remember being for some time. She kept herself outside of the manor for the most part. She wanted to avoid her master at all costs. While she loathed being infuriated with him, there was an odd thrill at such rebelliousness. Rebecca replayed yesterday's conversation over in her head as she gathered up the linen she had hung up to dry. Guy had apologized to her--half a heartfelt apology--but an apology none the less. She didn't know if she should be amused or hurt at this. She almost wished he hadn't apologized. It would give her an excuse to continue her resentment, but she couldn't hold onto it for long, already it was slipping.

Damn him. Damn him for everything. His indifference was painful, but his notice even more so. Did she expect him to care for her? Now that Marian was gone did she honestly believe that Guy would look at her with any semblance of affection? Better to have him be indifferent, now that she thought about it. If they never looked twice at one another she would not have to be reminded of his lack of affection. It hurt more when he would talk to her, or apologize to her after a particularly bad argument between them. Why did you insist upon always doing that? He never apologized to any of the other servants when he shouted at them. She hated it, she realized, when he spoke softly to her or called her by her old nickname. It was the most painful thing in the world. Maybe Thornton had been right, maybe she should have left Locksley when she had the chance. She shook her head as if to shake the thought away. That would have been impossible, for as painful as being around Guy was, Rebecca could not even begin to fathom her life without him. Damn him. She had no right to think such thoughts.

Rebecca handed over the laundry to one of the maids who was sitting with her friend while she folded the sheets and the clothes. Rebecca gave the two girls a smile before she headed back to the manor. Those two were inseparable, they did all their chores together. They didn't realize how lucky they were.

She blanched as she saw Guy round the corner. He seemed to be looking for something. He had found it. "You are a damn hard woman to find when you want to be, Becca."

Obviously he had ignored her request that he quit the use of her childhood nickname. He seemed to relish the scowl forming upon her lips. "Did ya sleep at all last night, master?" Rebecca commented, "You look..." she paused as she mentally cursed herself. It was as natural as breathing for her to be concerned for Guy. "You look tired." she finished tonelessly.

Guy seemed to flinch at the mention of last night. Rebecca was not going to ask why. She was going to keep her mouth shut and not get involved. It would be altogether too easy to find out what was troubling him, and she would once again go back to being his invisible shield against all comers. She didn't have the energy or the heart to fight his battles again. "What is it ya want, master?" She asked civilly.

"You are to come with me to Nottingham." He said bluntly.

"I am t' what?" Rebecca wasn't certain she had heard him correctly.

"For Isabella. You are to be her maidservant while she is in Nottingham." Guy explained again.

"Does she know?"

"She will when she sees you, now come." Guy gestured for her to follow him.

"Yes, master." Rebecca said as she followed him in docile silence. She had to marvel at this. Ever since he had returned from the Prince's court in London he seemed to have regained some of his old fervor. They had spoken more to each other in the past three days then they had for nearly a year. She tried to still the enthusiasm which leapt into her heart at this realization. Guy had made it abundantly clear that she was just like any other servant. Her illusions were shattered; he had broken her heart more times than she thought possible. She needed to begin to stamp out these lovesick delusions. He was her master, she was his servant; that was all.

Guy led her round to the stables, where his horse had already been made ready for his departure. He mounted with relative swiftness and held out his hand for Rebecca to take. She looked up at him questioningly. "What?" He grunted, "You'd rather walk to Nottingham?"

"I just--is this even proper, master?" Rebecca stuttered.

"Get on the horse, Becca!"

She placed her hand in his and she was helped up onto the horse. She swallowed hard as she swung up behind Guy. She kept her arms down at her sides, her fists bunching up the fabric of her green, linen dress. _Get a hold of yourself, Rebecca_. She chided mentally, _he's only taking you to Nottingham as a servant. This isn't some sort of special outing. _

Guy set the horse into a light trot as they rode away from Locksley Manor. Rebecca had not been expecting the sudden movement; so immersed in her thoughts as she was. In an effort to keep her balance she flung her arms about Guy's waist. She felt him stiffen automatically at her touch, but he did not tell her to remove her arms from about him, and so she did not. She was just as shocked as he was. She was pressed against his back and for a moment she dared not move. When was the last time she had been this close to him?

As the horse sped into a gallop, Rebecca shifted her position about on the horse. She kept a fair hold about Guy, but she tried to keep herself from pressing against him. Unfortunately with each jolt from the horse she found herself flung forward and against him. Eventually she gave up and allowed herself to hold onto her master as they rode down the path to Nottingham.

Guy did not speak to her and Rebecca had nothing to say. The silence should have been awkward, but it was almost peaceful. Rebecca could not help the sigh which emerged from between her lips as she rested against Guy. She was safe from sight. Guy could not see the small smile upon Rebecca's lips, even as it formed against her will. He could not see the contentment spread across her being. Rebecca closed her eyes and gave into this momentary indulgence. She allowed her rage against him to cool. She would never have this opportunity alone with him again; when they were both silent and not indifferent, or shouting fury at one another. It was a small blessing, and Rebecca was going to take it. _Damn you, Guy of Gisborne. I wish I couldn't love you. _

***

Rebecca had only been to Nottingham during fairs or festivals. The streets were usually crowded and there was always a sense of excitement among the people. Now the town seemed gray with oppression, as if all the happiness had been sapped from the town and its people. She clung to Guy tighter as they passed through the town streets and towards the castle.

Nottingham Castle loomed like a gray stoned dragon over the dower town. Rebecca cast her eyes upwards, watching a few soldiers pace around on the towers and the battlements. She watched over Guy's shoulder as the portcullis was raised for them. Guy led the horse into the castle grounds, a stable boy was quick to appear in order to hold the reigns of the horse as Guy dismounted. He helped Rebecca down and signaled for the boy to take the horse to the stables. Still standing in silence, Rebecca fiddled with her kerchief which she had tied about her head. She tightened the knot with nervous fingers, her eyes shifting over to Guy's troubled face to the stone floor.

"Are you all right, master?" Rebecca finally asked.

Guy shot her a look which clearly read he had no intention of talking about such matters with her. Rebecca merely shrugged in response. Guy led her up the castle steps and down one of the corridors. Rebecca followed, trying her best to take in her new surroundings while at the same time making sure she did not lose sight of Guy and get herself lost. She was brought before the doors of one of the rooms in the castle.

Guy knocked twice in rapid succession. "Isabella!" He barked impatiently, Rebecca was taken aback at the harshness in his tone.

"Must you shout at me?" Came an annoyed sigh from within. The door was opened and the sour face of an otherwise beautiful woman appeared in the doorway, "I'm not a dog to be ordered about. Who is this?" She pointed at Rebecca who could not help the grin which spread across her face as she looked at Isabella.

"This is your maidservant." Guy said, giving Rebecca a slight push forward as if to force her upon Isabella.

"Maidservant?" Isabella gave a short, disdainful laugh, "What would I need a maidservant for? Take her back to Locksley, brother, don't pawn your maids off on me."

Rebecca gave a little chuckle, not able to help herself, "I should have known the little mistress was able t' take care o' herself. How could the master an' I assume you'd want any help."

Isabella raised an eyebrow, reexamining the servant before her. She studied her carefully, her keen eyes picking up on every detail. There was only one person in the world who had ever called her 'little mistress,' "Becca?" She asked cautiously.

Rebecca's grin widened, "Aye, little mistress? I shouldn't say that though, look at ya! Ya ain't little any more, bless."

"I should have known it was you in an instant." Isabella said, taking the woman's hands in her own. She touched her as if she was touching a fragile ghost from a life long since vanished. She looked at her with an odd light, Rebecca wasn't sure what to make of it. Was it shocked happiness or surprised calculation? "I can't believe it..." She whispered this as if reorganizing a thought in her mind.

"I'll leave you to your little reunion, then." Guy sighed, turning away from the both of the as if the sight of such happiness made him ill.

"Do so." Isabella retorted. Taking Rebecca by the hand she led her into her room. Rebecca glanced over her shoulder at the retreating form of Guy. Something did not feel entirely right. "Now, Becca, I do believe you and I have much to catch up on." Isabella smiled as she swiftly shut the door behind her.

**_1171_**

Rebecca bounced a small ball of yarn off of Guy's head. She giggled as the boy sat bolt upright in his chair. "What is it?" He asked sharply in slurred alertness.

"Ya fell asleep...again." Rebecca twirled a piece of the string about her fingers as she wove the rest back into a ball.

"Sorry." He yawned as he rested against the table top, his head in his arms.

"If you're tired why don't ya nap in your room, Guy? Said ya didn't have t' wait for me."

"I'm all right."

"Sure? 'Cause we don't have t' go anywhere if you're not feeling well." Rebecca asked, already mentally ticking the seconds away in her head until he fell asleep again.

"I'll wake up once we get outside." He insisted.

"You've been acting like this for days. Are ya sick?"

"It's nothing." Guy grunted indicating that it was most assuredly something.

Rebecca threw the half strung yarn ball at Guy's head again, pulling it away before he could swat at it. "Will you stop that?" He snapped.

Rebecca chuckled as she tugged the yarn ball back by one of its strings. She went back to winding it back up. Keeping his head lowered to the table, Guy could see the basket of yarn sitting beside one of the chair legs. He stretched out his leg, hooking the basket about his ankle, he quietly dragged the basket over towards him. Keeping one arm on the table so that Rebecca didn't suspect him shifting about he carefully took one of the balls of yarn from the basket. Snapping upright he launched the yarn at Rebecca.

She gave a slight yelp as the yarn smacked her in the side of the head. She looked over at Guy with a small frown on her lips. His expression was utterly blank. He merely shrugged at her. She threw the yarn back at him and he caught it. "Put it back in the basket, ya sneak. An' don't take the others outta there. Took me all morning t' make those all neat." She couldn't help but snicker as he did as she said.

"Done." She announced as she showed off the neatly coiled ball of yarn.

"You only took an age." Guy muttered as she rummaged underneath the table for the basket containing the rest of her work.

"Now," Rebecca sighed as she reappeared, basket in hand. She set the yarn upon the tabel and folded her arms atop the table, "Tell me what's going on."

"I said nothing." Guy insisted. His eyes narrowed in irritation at her persistence into his own personal matters. "Can we leave it?"

"Guy, you've been snapping at me an' storming about the manor for days. Ya look as if I could knock ya over with a feather. What's wrong with ya?" Guy could hear from her voice she was genuinely concerned and not after his secrets. He turned his glares away from Rebecca. He had no need to be angry with her.

"It's Isabella." He said in a quipped tone.

"What?"

"She hasn't been sleeping. She keeps waking me up with nightmares and nothing will convince her to go back to sleep."

"Have ya told the mistress?" Rebecca asked.

"No." Guy shook his head and from the cutting edge in his voice it was a suggestion that was entirely out of the question, "I don't need to worry my mother over this. Isabella will stop eventually...right?"

Rebecca frowned, pondering this. "Has the little mistress told ya what's the matter?"

"No, she just says it's nightmares and that's it."

"You're impossible. The both of you." Rebecca blew a strand of hair out of her eyes, "Stubborn as the bloody Devil."

"Oh and I suppose you could handle things better?" Guy snapped, not at all in the mood to be taunted.

"Maybe."

"I'd like to see you try. Isabella doesn't talk to _anyone_." Guy smirked.

"For your sake ya better hope she does. Otherwise ya can look forward t' another sleepless night."

***

Isabella was sitting in a little chair next to her window. She held a tiny comb in her hand and she ran the small teeth of the wooden comb through the yarn locks of her rag doll. She would occasionally glance out the window to spy at the evening sun peeking out from between a roll of clouds. Her mother should be returning home soon. Ghislaine had spent the better half of the afternoon at Locksley...again. Isabella did not like being left by herself. Her brother only played with her for so long before he could not stand being kept indoors any longer.

The clouds drifted past in the sky, covering the sun once again and Isabella gave a small shudder and went back to combing out her doll's hair. A knock at the door interrupted her. She looked over at the door, a confused expression on her face. "Come in?" It was more of a question than an order.

Isabella was surprised to see Rebecca open the door. She gave her a smile and a little wave. Isabella just ducked her head and focused her attentions back on the doll. No doubt, Rebecca had just come in to tidy up her room. She would go away eventually.

Rebecca did just that. She set herself to tending to the quilts and linens on Isabella's bed. Although it had already been made earlier that morning, she made quite a show of tugging at each corner and smoothing out each wrinkle. Rebecca would continually glance over at the little girl, who would duck her head whenever she caught her eye.

"Your doll must have the finest hair in all o' Nottingham, little mistress." Rebecca commented.

Isabella looked up, a bit flustered to have been spoken to by one of the servants. She usually didn't talk to them. Whenever they talked to her she always had her brother or her mother to hide behind. Rebecca didn't mind her shyness, she went about her chores with ease. "Does she have a name?"

Isabella fidgeted in her chair, "Name? No..."

"What? How can a doll that pretty not have a name. Are you joking with me, little mistress?" Rebecca laughed as she stood with her hands on her hips.

"I never...thought of a name." Isabella said softly, glancing back down at her doll.

"Why don't you think o' one now, hm?"

Isabella went silent, back to staring at her doll in concentration. Rebecca walked over to her, almost as one would approach a fawn out in the woods. "You know I had a doll like yours once."

"You did?" Isabella asked.

Rebecca nodded, "My father gave it t' me. Know what I named her?"

"What?"

"Maeve. After my grandmother. Pretty name, don't you think, little mistress."

Isabella nodded. Rebecca knelt down beside the little girl. She sat forward on her knees and folded her hands atop her apron. "An' whenever I used t' get scared o' the dark...or when I had nightmares. I'd keep Maeve with me through the night an' you know what would always happen?"

Isabella shook her head, her eyes were growing rounder and wider as her shyness melted away a little at the story Rebecca told her. "What would happen?" She asked quietly as if about to hear a great secret.

"I wouldn't be afraid anymore." Rebecca said with a smile.

Isabella lowered her head upon hearing that. She ran her fingers through her doll's hair. "Mother made my doll for me." She said, "but Father gave it to me before he..." she swallowed her words and hung her head again. She gave a light gasp when she saw a handkerchief dangling before her. She took it in her hand reluctantly. She hadn't been crying, but she rubbed her eyes with it anyway. "I miss Father." She said.

"I know ya do, little mistress." Rebecca smiled sadly. "An' it's all right t' miss him."

"It's not fair." Isabella found herself crying, "Why did he have to go? Is he going to come back?"

"I don't know, little mistress." Rebecca said honestly. "But I'm sure the master would hate t' see ya crying so, an' not sleeping an' worrying your brother."

"I didn't mean to..." Isabella hiccuped.

"It's all right." Rebecca said, "I cried when my father left too."

"Really? But...but you're so much older!" Isabella exclaimed.

Rebecca found herself laughing at the little girl's bluntness. "You don't have t' be little t' cry. It's not a bad thing."

Isabella nodded. Rebecca pointed to the little doll in her lap, "An' ya got your doll with ya. I don't think she'd ever let anything bad happen t' ya."

"And neither would I."

Ghislaine was standing in the doorway of her daughter's room. She was still in her riding clothes and her long, dark hair was tied back away from her face. Isabella positively beamed at the sight of her mother. She had been so entrenched in what Rebecca was saying to her that she had stopped listening for her mother. "Mother!" She ran over to her and through her arms about her, her tiny arms barely reaching about her waist.

Rebecca got to her feet, her face going a rather dark shade of pink. She made a clumsy curtsy towards her mistress. "My lady..."

"That was quite an interesting story you were telling my daughter about your doll, Rebecca." Ghislaine said, a wry expression upon her face.

"My lady, I was only trying t-...."

"I know what you were trying to do." Ghislaine interrupted her excuses with a quipped severity. Rebecca gulped at the sound. "I believe there is only one thing to be done."

Rebecca winced, she prayed her mistress wouldn't think to punish her too hard, although what punishment she would have merited by speaking to Isabella should could not even fathom. "You shall be Isabella's personal maidservant."

"Pardon, my lady?" Rebecca choked.

"You will be Isabella's maidservant. I saw how you spoke to her. She needs someone to speak to her as you have done. Would you like that, Bella?" Ghislaine turned her attentions to her young daughter, "Would you like Rebecca to help in your room, and with your clothes? I'm sure she'd even like to play with your doll."

"Now, my lady." Rebecca stalled, "I'm not so sure o' that. I only play with dolls that have proper names."

"My doll has a name!" Isabella said in a stronger voice than Rebecca had ever heard. She ran over to grab her doll from off the chair. "It is Maeve and it is a pretty name! Now you have to play with her!"

"I see I don't have much more o' a choice, little mistress." Rebecca sighed. She looked up at Ghislaine who was smiling at her daughter's exuberance. "Thank ya, my lady. Truly..." She was both surprised and grateful at this sudden promotion. It was odd, but all she could think of was what the expression on Guy's face was when she told him about this. She smiled, and willingly allowed Isabella to lead her back over to her doll; her silent, little world no longer so isolated.

* * *

**A/N: Isabella plays a bit of an interesting part in this story, both in the past and the present timelines. She's a bit of a wild card, espeically from Becca's extremely bias and gullible view point. In other words, angst and chaos, ahoy! XD**


	11. Selfish Traps

XI

Selfish Traps

Rebecca had been sitting with Isabella for over two hours. Locked away and isolated from the rest of the castle, they sat talking with one another. One might have looked upon this scene as old friends reuniting after a long separation, but there was something wrong. Something twisted just beneath the surface. Isabella asked far too many questions and gave none of her own answers to anything asked of her. She smiled and it was as cold as ice and as inviting as a demon's. Rebecca had to blink to assure herself that she was sitting with the same Isabella. She could have been the image of her mother, save for the sharper lines etched about her face. Rebecca could not find the reason for her uneasiness, but it writhed within her all the same.

"How you can still be in service to my brother I do not understand." Isabella sighed, almost with a laugh.

"Sometimes not even I understand it, my lady." Rebecca said.

"He should have given you leave to go years ago." Isabella insisted.

"Oh? And where would I have gone, my lady?" Rebecca did laugh honestly at that.

Isabella shrugged and sat back upon her chair, "To wherever it was you wanted to disappear to. You could have gone anywhere you wanted; had all the freedom in the world...."

"An' been the loneliest, most miserable woman ya ever met!" Rebecca countered, sensing that Isabella was rambling on in her mind.

"You left us once before and didn't look back." Isabella said dropping her casual tone. Her eyes narrowed at the woman before her as she brought up an old and childish grudge. "Why you stay now I can only guess at."

"What?" Rebecca was genuinely confused and concerned over the sudden turn of temperament. "My lady, I never left ya...what are ya saying?"

"When my brother and I were forced from our home and made to live like dogs on the streets you left us." This was no mere turn in conversation. A cloud was passing over Isabella's mind and the sudden switch to raving anger startled Rebecca. "You went to Locksley rather than brave our fate." She laughed and it was a dangerous sound, "And all this time I thought we were like family, Becca. All those little promises of friendship and protection, only to turn and run from them when it would be too hard to keep them."

"My lady!" Rebecca exclaimed, wanting nothing more than to stop this tirade of madness Isabella was raining down. This was not like her. "I don't know what ya were told about that day, but none of this is true!"

"Are you insisting that I and my brother are liars now?" It was worse, Isabella was enjoying this cat and mouse game. She rose from her seat and began to pace before Rebecca. This conversation was rapidly becoming an interrogation. Had Guy known that she would do this to her? He could not have, of all the things Rebecca could think of Guy she could not believe he would purposefully place her in danger.

"Your brother?" Rebecca repeated, "How would he know?"

Isabella was stopped at this question. "When he came back for you, obviously."

"What...?" This was too much. Guy had never come back for her after he left Gisborne. She would have seen him! She would have known!

Isabella seemed to realize she had shocked Rebecca with this bit of news. "Oh, this is rich." She laughed in short sporadic giggles, "You don't know! Guy went back for you. I asked him to bring you with us."

"No..." Rebecca was paling. She staggered to her feet, hands over her head as she tried to find a way to escape from this.

"He told me he couldn't find you. That you wouldn't be coming with us! That you went to Locksley!" Isabella taunted.

"No, stop! Stop it! Why are ya doing this, my lady? Why?" Rebecca whirled on her, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"Why did you leave me?!" It was suddenly about her again, and for a fleeting instant Rebecca could see the scared little girl who was always terrified of being left alone.

Rebecca didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want to think about that day, conjuring up these memories was as acutely painful as sticking knives into her heart. "I was taken...t' Locksley..." She tried to breath steadily, if she cried she would never be able to speak the truth and she hated how Isabella had nurtured this false spite towards her for all these years. "I was beaten an' dragged t' Locksley. At night I was tied t' my bed to make sure I wouldn't run after ya. I did not know your brother came back for me....if I did...I--never would I have left ya so, my lady."

There was a charged silence in the room as the two women stared each other down. "Are ya satisfied, my lady." Rebecca said, "I've never betrayed ya. Ever."

"Yes...yes I can see that." And Isabella was gone again inside her head. If only Rebecca could catch a glimpse of what was going on in that mind of hers. Isabella made her way back to her chair and she sat down upon it again with a light thump. She was no longer looking at Rebecca, she was staring at the empty wall before her, her eyes glazed over in thought.

"My lady?" Rebecca croaked, "My lady, please look at me. It hurts that ya thought so ill o' me all this time..."

"I will admit I did my best to learn to hate you, Becca." Isabella did not seem sorry over this fact. She reached out for Rebecca to draw over to her. She took her hand holding with a sweetness that startled the servant even more than the anger had. "Perhaps we could mend that?"

"I'd like that, my lady." Rebecca tried to smile. Maybe this uneasiness was all in her mind. Why would Isabella ever seek to do her harm? Better to mend whatever was broken while she was given the chance. It was more than what Guy had ever given her. "I'd like that very much..."

***

At the request of Prince John, Isabella was due to ride out with the rest of the company to Locksley. She did not like this in the least, the Prince was as mad as a badger and she was almost positive there would be unnecessary bloodshed today. She felt a pang of sympathy towards the villagers. They would not know that such a tempest was heading their way. All they had done was look after themselves. They stood up for what was right. She could admire courage like that. She would need courage like theirs when her time came. She concealed a crooked smile as she looked over at her sullen faced brother; oh, her time would be coming soon. She could feel it.

She rode alongside Guy, who stared over at her in surprise as she pulled up beside him. He turned away from her, having no desire to speak to her now. There was too much that needed to be said and no means to say everything with. It was better to leave well enough alone. Why did she have to return into his life now? Was it just his imagination, or was she taking some pleasure in his discomfort?

"I had a very interesting talk with Rebecca this morning." She said almost cheerily.

"Did you?" He asked, although not interested in the gossip of women.

"Yes...will you not ask me what it was about?" She goaded.

"Isabella, I could care less about whatever you and my servant discussed." Guy sighed.

"Oh, I think you'd care about this a great deal." Isabella chuckled.

"Get on with it, then as you are so hell bound to tell me regardless." Guy kept his eyes on the road ahead of him as his sister's voice dropped to a whisper so that only he could hear her words.

"We were discussing the events which took place after the fire." Her voice was like poison and the acid dripped from her tongue with such clarity Guy felt them brand into his brain as images of that horrific day flooded into his mind. It was always so. Every day was battle to block his past from his existence. If he did not, he was certain he would drown. Isabella took his stoney silence as answer enough that he know of what she was alluding to. She went on with secret relish at the pain this was causing him, "Did you never wonder what became of Becca?"

No he did not. No he would not. He had never asked her and Rebecca had never mentioned that day. "She was there...the whole time. When you went back for her, she was there."

"No." Guy said abruptly, "I told you I did not see her."

"She hid. She was frightened of all that had happened and disgusted by what you had done! When Robin asked her to go to Locksley with him she told me she practically leapt at the chance." Isabella had to fight to conceal her mounting joy at the grave confusion this was causing Guy. "I find it odd how you never suspected that she would have become rather attached to Robin while he was lord of Locksley and forgotten all about Gisborne, and you."

Guy glared daggers at his sister, "Do you forget who you are talking about, Isabella? This is the woman who coddled you when you cried yourself to sleep every night."

Isabella flushed scarlet at the jibe, "That was then." She hissed, "I thought to give you fair warning, brother of mine, Rebecca was Robin's servant just as much as she was yours. What is to say she is not _still_ under his service?"

"You think Rebecca is a spy for Robin Hood?" He would have laughed if he hadn't begun to feel quite ill, "She's too foolish to be of use as a spy and she's too loyal to have the stomach for it."

"How sweet," Isabella smiled, "you still care for her."

"I care _nothing_ for Rebecca." Guy fumed, doing his best to keep his voice low and his temper under control, "She merely deserves more respect than assumptions and unproven accusations. She's earned that much." He realized he was echoing the same sentiment that Rebecca had told to him just yesterday. It was already too late; however, Isabella had successfully planted a seed of doubt in his mind, and whether or not he was ready to admit that her words could have any validity, his mind was already concocting possible evidences of a betrayal.

He sped up his horse and rode to get away from his sister's side, not wanting her to see the painful confusion he was in. Isabella smiled to herself as she lagged behind only a pace or two. "If it is proof you want, brother, then it is proof I shall get." she whispered to herself. She was going to tear him apart; steal everything that was his, or anything that he cared for. Anyone who sought to stop her would be destroyed as well. It was a shame that Rebecca had been placed in between her plans, she would have liked to have her on her side. Perhaps it wasn't too late to try and sway her. This was going to be fun.

**_Winter, 1173_**

"Untie me!" Rebecca screamed as she struggled with the rope binding her to her cot. The tight fibers were wrapped about her arms, waist, and legs. She was completely immobile, but she continued to flop and flail about as she tried to loosen the bonds. This was the third night she had been trussed up in this manner. She had hoped that her mother and Thornton would have stopped this torturous imprisonment, but she had had the bad sense to try and escape the previous afternoon. Under constant watch by the other servants she had gotten as far as the end of Locksley Village before she had been dragged back, screaming and sobbing all the way.

Gemma sat beside her daughter, tightening the knots around the bed, a pained expression upon her face. "Let me go." Rebecca said again, breathing raggedly, "Mum, please...please let me go."

"I can't do that, my girl." Gemma said soothingly, trying to brush a few loose strands of dark hair out of her daughter's eyes.

"Yes ya can." Rebecca said feverishly, "Untie the ropes an' let me go."

Gemma merely shook her head at her daughter, the betrayal in her daughter's eyes too much to bear. There was a lifetime's worth of heartache there, too much for a mere child to have etched into her face. Rebecca stopped struggle for a moment and stared up at the roof of the servant's quarters. She hated the shape of the roof. She hated the size of the long house which served as the servant's living area. She hated the way the door slanted to one side. She hated where the table was positioned. She hated that this wasn't her cot and because of that it felt uncomfortable. She hated that this was Locksley and not Gisborne. She hated she couldn't go home anymore.

"They're out there, ya know." Rebecca finally said, her head lolling one side to glare at her mother. "Probably lost in the woods. Scared an' starving an' alone." She saw her mother wince at her words, "Ya helped raise 'em. Ya knew 'em since they were just babies."

"Oh, Becca--"

"How could ya do it, Mum? How could ya have just stood there and let 'em leave? How could ya not have fought for 'em?! How could you not have let me go to 'em?!" Rebecca struggled.

"What would ya have had me do, Becca?" Gemma shouted, "Loose my only daughter? My only child? You've been so lost in your own hurts ya never considered anyone else's. I lost a friend too that day. Ghislaine was my closest friend an' Isabella an' Guy were like a son an' daughter t' me. Don't ya lie there an' mock me, my girl! Think that I don't see those children in my dreams at night? I do, an' Becca if it had been in my power t' save 'em I would have. But I couldn't! We're servants! We have no freedom o' our own."

"That's not good enough!" Rebecca spat.

"It is the way o' the world, Becca an' ya had best get used to it!" Gemma shouted.

"I won't" Came Rebecca's obstinate response.

Gemme sighed, laying a hand upon her daughter's own. She flinched, but the ropes kept her from jerking her hand away. "I know Guy was your best friend, Becca, I know how--"

"I loved him!" Rebecca's shout was squeezed out from between her gritted teeth as she stared up at her mother.

"You're a child!" Gemma retorted, "You don't know what love is." She didn't doubt that her daughter loved Guy, but a future with him was impossible and it would be better for her to forget him. It would be better for them both.

"Don't say that, Mum." Rebecca said softly, "I do know."

"What, an' have ya given yourself t' him?" Gemma said, "Have ya thrown away any chance o' a decent life for yourself over that boy?"

Rebecca went silent and turned away from her mother. Gemma paled, "Oh, Becca, oh no...ya did not!"

"I'm nearly eighteen years old, mum." Rebecca said quietly, talking towards the wall, "Surely ya realized by now, at least, that I was not meant for marriage?"

"Don't talk so foolishly!" Gemma hissed, "Why, Becca? Why would ya ruin your one chance at a free an' decent life for yourself?"

"I ruined nothing." Rebecca said, "I loved Guy."

"An' did he love ya as much as ya did him?" Gemma accused.

"I'm sure that he did--"

"Did he tell ya? Did he say that he loved ya?!"

"No..." She could see from the mounting rage growing across her mother's face that this was a most unsatisfactory answer, "but I never told him either!"

"Such fools, the both o' ya...such blinded fools..." Gemma shook her head.

"Mum, let me go..." Rebecca said, "If I was t' have been married I would 'ave gone far an' away from ya. Why is this different?"

"Because it is not safe! You will be wandering lost an' what if ya never find them?" Gemma wailed, "What then? Am I to not matter t' ya? I need ya too, my darling girl. I need ya!"

"Mum, please!" Tears were falling from her eyes, "I love ya, I do, ya know it. An' if ya loved me as much ya would let me go!"

Gemma inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, "It is just an infatuation ya had."

"Mum!"

"That is all!" She opened her eyes new resolve shining in them, "It will pass. We will start a new life for ourselves here. In time, things will get better."

"It will not pass." Rebecca wailed broken-heartedly, "It will not!"

"Try to sleep tonight, my girl. If ya do maybe tomorrow we can see about releasing the ropes." Gemma said as if the very strength of her soul was leaving her. She bent to kiss the forehead of her daughter, but Rebecca turned her head away from her. She sighed as she straightened, "Ya will thank me for this one day, Becca."

Rebecca had nothing more to say to her mother. The room went dark before her as the candle was blow out. In the darkness she struggled in her bonds, feeling the rope cut into her soft skin. On her legs she could feel droplets of blood drip down from raw cuts she had torn open with her flailing. Exhausted, she gave up, crying softly. Locksley was her prison cell. No matter what her mother said she would not forget what had been done to her. She would never thank her from depriving her of the only freedom she would ever have and she would never forgive her for this betrayal.

* * *

**A/N: I said the past was going to crop up to interfere with present situations. This is one case in many. **

**Also, that being said, I hope you don't judge Gemma too harshly from this flashback. Review and let me know what you think! :)  
**


	12. Choosing Sides

XII

Choosing Sides

Isabella was feeling rather pleased with herself. The afternoon had turned into a most interesting and fortuitous one, indeed. She allowed herself a small giggle of delight as she made her way through the castle halls. Her dress was torn and her shift was hanging out, and yet she toyed with the ripped fabric with positive childish glee. She was so very clever. She had her brother completely blind to her true intentions and now this hero Robin Hood was wrapped about her little finger. That kiss in the woods was certainly proof enough of that.

As she thought of Robin she swung a leather twined tag in her right hand. It was the day's reward for her toil. Standing at the Prince's side and smiling and joking with him was making her ill. He was a loathsome man, but then what man was not? She smiled, perhaps Robin was different. He seemed a kind and brave man. The sort of man she had only wished had been hers in the first place. She tightened her grip around the tag, Robin Hood's tag. It had been altogether too easy to take it from him as she kissed him. Men were so easy. She almost reviled that she had had to dupe Robin for just a moment, but she would reward him later. They would make such a pair. She wondered if he was thinking of her at this very moment. She felt just like a young girl in love, only she had never been a young girl in love. She had been a scared and dutiful young girl who had been sent away at the request of her brother. Oh, he had told her then it was for her own good. That she would be better off far and away from him, married to rich lord who could provide for her and fulfill her every possible whim. He had said he would miss her and that he would think of her every day and that one day they would be together again once he won back what was rightfully there's. All lies. Guy had only said those things to get rid of her, to get her out of his way. Well, she could tell such pretty lies too, and he would soon be the one to bow out of her way. She swung the tag once more before stowing it away in her shift. The games were about to begin, and she already had an ace up her sleeve.

She made her way back to her chambers to change and make ready for the banquet which would take place in the great hall. She would have to be ready to meet Robin and his gang to let them into the castle. What an entertaining evening this was going to be. She opened the doors to her chambers. "Becca," She sighed, "I require your assistance."

Rebecca gave a start as she took in the sight of her mistress. "What happened?" she asked. The tears on her gown were quite awful and it looked as if she had been ravished by outlaws in the woods. "Mistress? Are ya all right?"

Isabella waved Rebecca's concern away, "Don't be fooled by all of this, Becca. I am quite all right."

"But--"

"Things are not always as they seem at first glance." Isabella said with a suspicious twinkle in her eyes. "Come, help me select a new gown and I will explain."

Still wary of her mistress, Rebecca cautiously went to the trunk at the foot of her bed and began to pull out a few gowns for Isabella to select. As she laid each gown out on the bed for her to look at Isabella explained herself: "I met Robin Hood in the woods today."

Rebecca's eyes widened at that, "Ya mean t' say he did this to ya?"

"No, no. I did this." Isabella said, "I couldn't very well return from the woods looking as if I had just had a pleasant ride now could I? A little tear there and a rip here, and I can play the part of a helpless damsel rather well."

"I don't understand, my lady." Rebecca shook her head. "Why were ya even with Robin?"

"He is a friend of mine." The tone of her voice and the glimmer in her eye told Rebecca that Isabella was taken with the man already.

"Oh no..." Rebecca exhaled, "My lady, ya probably don't know, but Robin an' your brother they..."

"Hate one another? Would love to run a sword through each other?" Isabella suggested. "Yes I know."

"Why?" Rebecca asked Isabella. "My lady...forgive me, but ya don't even seem sorry of this situation."

"Sit beside me, Becca." Isabella patted the space of bed next to her as she sat down.

Rebecca went to her mistress and set next to her. She could read a lifetime's worth of pain and suffering in the woman's eyes. It was such a similar look. She had seen Guy with such darkness in his eyes. He had been unreachable to her when she had offered help and comfort. As she sat with Isabella she prayed she would not be put in the agonizing position of watching her friend suffer without being able to help. She said nothing, giving Isabella time to form the correct words to tell her story properly to her maidservant.

"I want you to know that what I am about to tell you I say only because I trust you absolutely and I know you will keep my secrets safe." Isabella said. "Am I wrong to think this?"

"Of course not, my lady!" Rebecca said, "Ya know I would never deceive ya."

She smiled, "Thank you, Becca. Robin is a friend of mine because, as it is, I have none...save for yourself, of course. I know you care for my brother a great deal, Becca, I've always know it, but you should know he is not the man you think he is."

"Oh, my lady, I have heard such stories before..." Rebecca said mournfully.

"So you have heard how he _sold_ me into marriage when I was but a child? You heard how he left me without word or trace? How he gave me up to a man of a such cruelty and hate..." Isabella's voice nearly broke as she spoke freely. Rebecca had nothing to say in response.

"I am alone, Becca, utterly alone and I must do what I can to assure myself that I will never be put in such a position of powerlessness again. You can understand, as you were left so alone as well. I am going to change things!" She took her hands in hers, "I will make a better life. One without my brother or my _husband_."

"My lady...I cannot believe your brother would purposefully have placed ya in such miserable circumstances. He always did what was best for ya." Rebecca fumbled to try and make sense of all of this, "Shouldn't ya speak t' him?"

"No good would come of it." Isabella spat, "He has been so far removed from my heart for so long I could not forgive him if I tried. Besides, he dances to the tune of the Sheriff and Prince John; the two most evil of men I have ever met. No, Becca, better to leave him."

This was not good enough, "My lady, pardon me, but ya have not been with him. He is alone too. He has had no one an' any whom he thought cared for him or thought t' show him kindness has only brought him greater misery. You're his sister. We know him t' be proud an' unfeeling sometimes, but ya know as well as I do he needs ya even if he doesn't say it. Ya can't turn your back on him so easily, my lady. It ain't right."

She was not making this easy for her. Isabella faked a smile of sympathy to her servant. If she chose to be so difficult in trusting her she would be forced to break her first. "That is touching, Becca, after all this time you still love my brother."

Rebecca lowered her head at that. "Oh, poor Becca." Isabella said, bringing the woman into her arms, startling her for half a second. "It isn't fair what he has done to the both of us." She heaved a convincing sob, "I shouldn't tell you this..."

"What?" Rebecca asked.

"No...no it's nothing."

"My lady, what is it? Is it Guy? Did he tell ya something? What?"

Oh, she was too predictable! She would make a fine second in command one day once she was cured of her hopeless and sickening infatuation with her traitorous brother. She would come to her senses and she would see that he was truly a vile and evil man, not even worthy of pity. Isabella almost prayed she would. She wanted only to place a crack in Rebecca's heart, she didn't want to go so far as to shatter it entirely. Broken hearts made for cold and calculating minds. Shattered souls made for empty and useless ghosts. "I was riding with my brother this afternoon...before I met Robin. He was...that is, I had mentioned you; thanking him for letting you stay with me and he..."

"Ya had best say it, my lady." Rebecca said quietly, feeling her heart begin to fall away from her at all the little silences.

"He said, he was pleased to have found a place for you outside of Locksley as he was going to have you removed from his service regardless." Isabella said as if stating this caused her such discomfort. "I told him to remember what you used to be to him and that you deserved more than to be cast aside as if you no longer mattered. You've earned so much more than that."

Rebecca shook her head, "No, he wouldn't have said something like that. He wouldn't have!"

"I'm sorry, Becca. I know how much it hurts to be betrayed by someone you loved." Isabella whispered. "But that is why I must work with Robin! We're fighting for something so much bigger. We are going to topple the Sheriff and my brother and everything they stand for. We are going to humiliate the Prince tonight. And that is why I am asking that you come with me to the banquet tonight. See what it is we do. Perhaps you will realize you don't need my brother, that you are better without him, but Becca, know that I would never do such things to you. If you were to work with me...think of what we could achieve!"

Rebecca's head was whirling and her heart felt sick. "I will go with you tonight...an' I will think over what ya said, my lady."

"Good." Isabella beamed. Rebecca would thank her for this, when she was a free woman with means and position. She would realize that she did not need to be tied down with such weakness as affection and love, such things which only clouded judgements. It would be such fun to see her turn on her brother. Guy was wrong about her, Rebecca would make the perfect spy! He would never see it coming. Just picturing the look on his face when he realized that Rebecca was now working for her was too much!

"My lady?" Rebecca's voice was uncommonly weak and fragile. She looked as if she was about to burst into tears, or wretch over the floor. "May I leave ya for now? I...I need t'..."

"Of course, Becca." Isabella said sympathetically. "I understand."

Rebecca nodded and dashed from the room, hand clamped over her mouth as she left, but Isabella could hear the keening beginning to spill from her and the sound of her confused and anguished tears was both painful and music to her ears. One step closer. She pulled out the outlaw's tag from her shift and toyed with it a bit, a smile on her manipulating lips. Now for the final brushstroke and her perfectly crafted picture of deception would be complete.

**_1191_**

Gemma was coughing again. She had had that cough for months and it had shown no signs of going away. In fact, it only appeared to be getting worse. Far from resting in order to regain any lost strength, the old servant was just as lively as ever. Nothing went unseen or untended to under Gemma Tanner's watch, and it seemed unlikely that things would ever be any other way. Her daughter had been trying to get her to a physician for weeks and Gemma was having none of it. She allowed Rebecca to treat her with the meager supply of medicines she kept in her box of healer's supplies. She had no skill in the medical arts, but had a rudimentary knowledge of which herbs were supposed to help with coughs and lack of strength. Her daughter did the best she could and bore her mother's stubbornness with much the same mentality that kept Gemma up and about despite her ever weakening state.

It had begun to reach such a state that even the master of the manor had tried to step in. Guy never took an interest in the well being of his servants, and he seemed determined not to let anyone feel that he had started now. He began to reduce Gemma's chores and order her to at least two hours of rest with the excuse being that hearing her shuffling about and hacking was beginning to grate on his nerves. It was only until one evening that this game of stubborn patient suddenly became much more grave than he had imagined.

Guy had stolen a moment of the day to devote to his sword training. There were four wooden posts he had set up on the grounds near the manor with which to practice on. He was usually kept so occupied with the Sheriff's business that he often forgot his exercises. He had gotten into several fights with many of the men in the Sheriff's ranks that he was giving daily reminders of his laziness. He was going to remedy that. The next time one of the soldiers chose to rile his temper they would think better of it.

He was stripped of his heavy, black, leather coat and his black shirt was beginning to cling to him as he worked himself into a fine frenzy. The post before him held several marks from where his blade had bitten into the wood. He twirled his sword aloft in his hand before returning to his position. The steady rhythm and hum of the blade cutting down through the air was an almost hypnotic sound. He found himself getting lost in it as he concentrated. Each post represented someone Guy's hatred towards bordered on murderous intention. With each cut and strike he would come that much closer to finally ridding himself of his enemy. It was marvelous incentive.

"I don't think I've seen ya practice since ya were a little boy." A voice from behind him said, "You've gotten rather skilled."

Guy whirled around, sword pointed at the source of the voice. Gemma Tanner raised both her arms, "I'm unarmed." She said dryly as Guy lowered his sword.

"You shouldn't be out here." Guy said gruffly, turning away from her, "You could've been hurt."

"I came out here 'cause I was looking for ya, master." Gemma said as she watched Guy try to return to the same level of blind concentration as before, "I was hoping t' speak with ya."

"What do you want, Gemma?" Guy grunted, striking at the post.

"I'm afraid it's rather important...an' I've already put this off for far too long." Gemma said, and the tone in her voice gave Guy enough of a pause. He turned about and sheathed his blade, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Do you need a physician?" Guy asked her.

Gemma laughed, "That's kind o' ya, master. Offering me a physician, doubt there's any servant in all the kingdom who'd ever be offered a physician by their masters. No master, I've no need for one." She gave a light cough, but she quickly silenced herself.

Guy eyed her, she had a grayish pallor to her skin and her eyes seemed to be sinking deep within her sockets. She looked old, he realized he had never even thought about how old she must be. She had always been an immortal force. He had known her since before he could even remember, a woman like that was impossible to ever picture as growing old. "What is it?" He asked her almost gently.

Gemma smiled at him with all the kindness of a mother, which only made her words all the more shocking for him, "I'm dying, master."

That was impossible. Guy looked away from her and in all directions save for her eyes. Gemma dying? That was about as probable as winter coming after spring. Gemma had always been there. She was ill and she was afraid she would not get better, but she would. She was Gemma. She couldn't die.

"Don't look away from me, master. I ain't afraid o' the truth, nor should ya be." Gemma barked, and no one ignored Gemma when she gave such an order.

"How...how do you know?" Guy croaked out. "How can you be sure?"

"If ya live t' be as old as I am, master, you'll know too." She chuckled, "My strength ain't what it used t' be. I'm running out." She coughed.

"You can rest. Let the other servants take over for you. There are physicians in Nottingham. I will--"

"Ya always were a kind boy." Gemma said softly, "Don't think I had forgotten it. Shouldn't worry for me, master. I don't."

"Then why tell me this?"

"I said I didn't worry for my own sake. Didn't say I didn't worry for my daughter's." Gemma sighed, her breathing labored.

"Becca?" Guy's brow furrowed as he tried to think of how she should matter at all in this, "You haven't told her." He guessed.

"Aye, an' neither will you, master. I know my girl. Better t' let her think she's fixing it. If she knows she can't she'll fall apart." Gemma said sadly. "It's for her sake I'm talking t' ya now. She won't have anyone after I'm gone. I need t' know...I need for ya t' promise me she'll always have a home here. That ya won't abandon her."

"Gemma," Guy began to shake his head, "I can't promise that."

"Yes ya can." Gemma said, "'Cause ya wouldn't dare t' refuse a request from me, my boy."

Guy scowled at her, "You can not order me into anything, Gemma and I can not make promises like these."

"Guy of Gisborne ya will not scowl at me like I am one o' your pretty maids t' be frightened and sent running from ya. My own mother served in your family's household before ya were even born. I was your mother's maidservant. My husband died for your father in the wars, my daughter was once your closest friend an' am I asking ya t' remember what my family has done for ya!" Gemma stood tall against her master, eyeing him with the same frigid look she would often give to him as a boy when he had caused some spark of trouble.

"The past has no bearing now." Guy said. "My offer to bring a physician here to Locksley for you still stands. I will carry your secret with me, but as for the well being of your daughter I can only promise her position here for as long as she is needed."

"And that is all ya have t' say t' me, master?" Gemma was hurt at the coldness in Guy's tone. The utter detachment from her and from the mention of his family and his past. It seemed that his family no longer existed for him, as if he had erased them from his memory and his heart.

"Yes, Gemma."

"Then ya are not the man I had ever hoped ya would become." Gemma retorted, "This cold block o' ice. Are ya yet human, my boy?"

"You will not speak to me in such a manner." Guy spat.

"I helped raise ya from a baby!" Gemma said, her voice cracked with fatigue and with disappointment. "I loved ya like a son! All I am asking is that ya look out for my daughter, master, she'll have no one but you after I'm gone."

"You're not going to die." Guy said, and now Gemma understood why he had been refusing to accept her simple request.

"Promise me anyway, master. I've never asked for anything from ya or your family before. Grant me this. No one else need know." Gemma said.

Guy finally nodded reluctantly. "Fine then. I give you my word. Your daughter will be kept safe in Locksley."

"Thank ya, master." Gemma looked as if she would turn away and head back to the servant's quarters, but she stopped in mid-step and turned back around again. "Master? Permission t' speak freely?"

"Gemma, I'd say you've had it already." Guy sighed.

"You are a good man, master. I remember how ya were as a child; always asking for more responsibility then ya could possibly handle, an' never thinking of yourself half the time." She smiled at him sadly, "I don't know what happened t' ya all those years ago. I don't know what made ya believe ya had to hide your soul, master, but don't conceal it so, lest ya intend t' loose it for good."

Guy turned away form her much like a child would after being chastised for a fault in their character that they were unwilling to acknowledge. "Good night, Gemma." He said in a low tone. His patience for her prattling was at an end. She may have always treated her as a son, but he would not be spoken to like a disobedient child.

He could hear her sad sigh as she walked away, "Good night, master."

* * *

**A/N: Originally Gemma was only supposed to crop up in a few scenes and for the most part she was going to be mentioned by name only, but somehow I found her character growing on me and I wanted to explore it a bit more. She's not going to be in many more sequences, but I've found this character to be more important to my plot than I first assumed. I just love it when characters--canon or OC--sneak up on you like that. :) **


	13. Inseparable

XIII

Inseparable

Rebecca had never been privy to one of Robin Hood's famous escapades. For the most part she had considered herself lucky enough to avoid watching his misadventures. As much as she had often tried to deny it, she had a certain fondness for the young man. It had been hard to not develop some amount of feeling for the poor orphaned boy she had helped raise along with the other servants, but she kept her distance from the young lord of Locksley.

She stood in the back with the other servants, watching from the shadows as an arrow swooped by over the heads of the nobles and Prince John to land quivering on the wooden throne, which moments before the Prince had been sitting in. If nothing else Isabella was a marvelous actress. The other nobles scattered about in panic, as if expecting hundreds of ruffians to descend from all corners of the great hall and hold them all at sword point.

It was only the servants who remained calm, some even exchanged mischievous glances at one another with smiles on their lips. Robin Hood was their hero, that had no one else to look up to. Rebecca had to commend Robin on that, what he gave to the people of Nottingham was more than just the odd package of coins and supplies; it was hope. It was a hope that did not belong to her. Robin was never her lord or her master, and she suspected that he had known this since he had been a child. He knew she would never wish him ill will, nor would she ever wish to see him fall or be placed in danger, but that was all she could allow herself to feel and for this coldness of affection she was forever at odds with the people of Locksley.

Rebecca stayed close beside Isabella throughout the feast, serving her and waiting upon her. Isabella would often pass her a secret glance or a smile as if to say 'Do you realize what I have done? Are you not pleased with me?' It was the same look she would get on her face when she was a child and had thought she had done something particularly clever. Time was when Rebecca used to find such expressions amusing. Now it brought a chill down her spine. She wasn't sure if such a feeling was misplaced. Isabella had done nothing to hurt her. She had been equally as alone as Guy had been and now that she was back she was merely trying to make sense of the life she had left behind. Isabella had even tried to warn her of Guy's betrayal towards her, and she had done this with the greatest reluctance, knowing that this would harm her. No, Rebecca thought, Isabella had done nothing wrong, but try to look after herself.

Rebecca could not help, but notice that Guy had been missing for most of the evening's events and even know a single chair stood empty at the head table next to the Prince. Rebecca was beginning to feel nervous at the prolonged absence of her master, but before her worry could escalate she saw him appear from around one of the stone columns. His expression was blank, but with a pain-worn triumph, that Rebecca could not understand the source of. He took his seat beside the Prince. Rebecca could see that Isabella was watching with hawk-like fascination, as if she was hovering over her prey just waiting to strike and come away with a prize in her claws.

Rebecca could feel Isabella's gaze drift lazily over to her, it was as if she was wondering what she was thinking. Rebecca found she did not like her own thoughts being scrutinized so she turned her gaze away from them both and skittered away to where the other servants lingered.

After the feasting had concluded and the Prince had announced that he would retire for the rest of the evening, Rebecca was once again beckoned over to Isabella's side. She walked over with a trudging step, almost like a dog with its head bowed and tail between its legs. "Come, Becca," She said, "after you have helped me ready for bed you will be dismissed for the rest of the night."

Rebecca was about to nod in acquiescence to her mistress when Guy spoke out. "I'm afraid, sister, you will have to help yourself tonight. I require Becca's assistance." His voice was tight and controlled, Rebecca looked over at him, recognizing the tone as one he usually used when he was masking pain.

Isabella was put out by this, not expecting any interference, "But Guy, you placed her in my keeping now. She's no longer your servant you practically _said_ so yourself." She flashed a hidden look back at Rebecca, wanting her to recall their afternoon's conversation. The allusion sent a stab of pain through the serving woman.

"She's still my servant." Guy said gruffly, "And she'll do as I command yet. Besides, Becca will not know where the servants' chambers are in the castle. She'll have to be shown." Now he was looking at her with a hidden expression. This was too much deception for Rebecca to handle. She felt that she should scream, and if it was within her place she would shouted that she wanted nothing more to do with either of them for the rest of the night and that whatever feud they were fighting they should handle it alone, for she wanted no part in any of it. As it was, she merely nodded her head in silence and went at her master's bidding.

Isabella looked scarlet from frustration, and her eyes darted about as if she was worried for something. Rebecca left her in this fashion and walked out of the great hall, following Guy into the torch lit corridors. She kept her distance, her head bowed low as she followed her own footsteps with her eyes.

"Walk with me, Becca." Guy insisted.

Curious, Rebecca made her way beside him, "Master?" She dared not look at him. She feared that now that they were alone he would tell her she was no longer required at Locksley, that after tonight she would belong to Isabella. She had been dreading such a conversation all afternoon. She would be sick.

Guy looked over at her, taking in the exhausted look in her eyes and the haggard features of her pale face. Her dark hair was tied back with a single ribbon, but small stray locks framed her face with wild frizzled strands. Was she even now wondering what he would tell her, and what, if any, of this conversation she could take to Robin Hood in the morning? Such a thought was too horrible to even think of, and yet, he had been trying all afternoon to dispel all thoughts of the possibility of Rebecca being a spy for Robin, but all he had succeeding in doing was cultivating the seed of doubt.

Her eyes use to be bright with laughter. The memory caught him completely by surprise. Guy looked away, but the thoughts remained. Her dark eyes always held smiles, and she used to have the most wonderful smile. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen it. He didn't know why he cared so suddenly. Perhaps it was because she may no longer be his loyal servant. All this time Rebecca had been with him and he had sent her away. Would it be any great surprise if she had turned spy?

"We're not going t' the servant's quarters are we, master?" Rebecca said softly.

"No."

"Then where are we going?"

Now was the time to confront her about the accusations against her. Let her say her secrets, if any, and have done with it. If there was validity in them he would let her go. It would be punishment enough to banish her from Locksley. He need not have to do anything else. "Becca," He stopped and turned to face her. This should have been easy enough, but somehow the words lodged in his throat and he found it impossible to voice his questions, "I...there have been..."

"You're bleeding!" Rebecca suddenly shrieked pointing down at his boots where a small puddle of blood was beginning to form. Her eyes travelled upwards and she noticed for the first time a dark handkerchief tied about his thigh like a tourniquet. "Master, you're hurt!" Any hidden anger or sickness she had been feeling towards him vanished in an instant.

Guy looked down cursing as he stepped back away from the pool of his own blood. At once, Rebecca placed an arm about him as if to support him. "Where are your chambers?" She asked him quickly.

"Becca, I can walk." He was taken aback at her sudden concern. "I don't need your help."

"Master, you're bleeding. When did this happen? Were ya like this all through the feast?"

"Yes." He said grudgingly, this was not what he had had in mind.

"Master!" Rebecca looked as if she would hit him for his stupidity. "Lord knows how much blood you've lost! Where are your chambers? We are going there, now!"

Now that she mentioned it he had been feeling rather light headed for the past few minutes or so. He had just attributed it to his exhaustion though. The wound itself was almost numb, in fact, his entire leg almost felt numb. "Down the hallway." he found himself saying, "It's the third room."

Away they went. Guy looked beside him to see the determined servant half dragging him to his room as if he couldn't walk there himself. He began to laugh. It started as a small snickering, then a low chuckle, until he found himself unable to contain it. How could he have thought Rebecca was a spy for Robin Hood?

"Feverish." Rebecca scoffed, "What have ya gotten yerself into, master?" She chided, but Guy could not stop laughing, he could not even catch enough of a breath to tell her he was still in his right mind, if not increasingly light headed and numb. Thinking back on his doubts now only brought on more hilarity. He was actually considering confronting her over this, she would have lost her faith in him for good if he had. This sobered him up, and he suddenly went very quiet as Rebecca shoved open the door into his room.

None of the candles had been lit yet, so the room was a musty dark grey, shadows of light were cast about in the darkened room, but there was enough light that Rebecca was able to find the bed and set Guy down. Leaving his side for a moment she set herself the task of lighting the candles. She left the chamber doors open until there was enough light for her to see. She returned to his side, propping pillows up behind him so that he would sit upright.

Guy watched her as she examined the makeshift tourniquet he had tied about his leg to slow the flow of blood from the wound on his thigh. Rebecca did not dare touch the handkerchief just yet. "What happened, master?" She asked him.

"I can not tell you."

"Can't or won't?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Can't, Becca." There was something in his voice which made her believe him. She was away again, roaming out in the hallway, calling for one of the guards. A young man answered her frantic shouts. She told him to fetch her water, bandages, and needle and thread. Guy smirked as he listened to her. It was amusing to see the woman who usually followed orders deliver demands as if she had been commanding others all her life.

She went back to him, taking a chair and dragging it to his bedside. She placed a hand upon his head, checking for fever. Relief washed over her face as she realized he had no signs of fever. "Are ya in pain, master?" She asked worriedly.

He shook his head. Now that his weight was fully off of his leg it was beginning to throb, but he wasn't going to say so. Was she usually this concerned for him? Wouldn't he have seen it, she made no effort to hide her emotions?

A knock at the door signalled the return of the guard. Rebecca went to the door and let the man in. She thanked him as he placed the supplies upon the table and she wasted no time in preparing them. Pouring the water into a bowl, then unwinding the bandages. She ran the needle over the flame two times to rid it of any infection it could bring to the wound. Threading the needle took most of her efforts. Candle light was not the best light to thread a thin piece of string into a needle's eye.

Any other servant would have panicked and sent for a physician, Guy wagered, but Rebecca had stitched him up before and none of his wounds had ever become infected. He trusted her to take care of him now. He trusted her, he realized with an almost prideful swell. He had been a fool to doubt her when her attentions and loyalties were so clearly with him and his family. Thank God he had never had to tell her of his false suspicions.

Rebecca tore at the gash on his trousers, opening the rip as wide as she possibly could. She dabbed at the nasty wound on his leg, wiping the blood away so that she could see the wound properly. It was ripped and it looked as if whatever knife had been stabbed into him had been twisted and pulled many times. This would not take a few stitches to close. "This is going to hurt, master." She warned him.

He merely shrugged, "Do it."

Positioning the needle against one end of the gash she began to stitch the wound close. She had only punctured his torn flesh once before she heard him swear and give a start at the shock of the needle entering already sore and bleeding skin. "I warned ya." Rebecca said, keeping her focus on his wound.

Once the shock of the stitches wore off, Guy relaxed some. He watched Rebecca work in relative silence. Her steady hands pulled the needle through the skin. He could see some of the thread in the candle glow. She looked as if she was sewing two pieces of cloth together, it felt like that too from the constant tugging on either side of his leg. She had lost all look of concern, her face had gone back to the same tired and emotionless slate.

"We used to be inseparable." Guy said, finding himself voicing his thoughts without check.

Rebecca looked up at that. Guy had never really spoken of their childhood before, the outburst now was most unexpected and slightly painful given what Isabella had told her he had said about her. "Yes we did." She answered with cool indifference.

"What happened?" He whispered to her.

"We were separated." Rebecca answered with chilling bluntness. She would not go down this road with him. He had raised her hopes before only to dash them to bits when he came back to his senses. She couldn't allow herself to discuss her past with him. She wouldn't hurt like that again.

"Do you wish that we hadn't been?" He questioned her slyly. Isabella had said she had gone to Locksley willingly, perhaps she would let slip what had actually happened.

"Oh," She sighed with such longing in her breath it caused her to shudder. She stilled herself before she brought the needle back down to his skin again, "every day, master."

"Even now?"

"Now it is not my place t' think o' the past." Rebecca said as she cut the thread. She began to bandage his leg with a gentleness which contradicted her cold tone. "Ya had best stay off o' that leg for a time, master." Rebecca said, changing the subject, "I wager it'll hurt like the devil in the morning."

"Then stay with me until the morning." He said.

"What?" Rebecca swore she had misunderstood him. "But I've already stitched ya up. Ya don't need me anymore."

"But I want you to stay." He truly did. Somehow nearly loosing her had caused him to find her again.

Rebecca blinked at him. First he tried to engage her in a conversation about the past and now he wanted her to stay with him through the night. Maybe he was feverish after all. She tried to contain the butterflies which went zooming through her heart at the idea of staying with him through the night. She tried to ignore the feeling of restrained giddiness at the thought that maybe he had taken heed of her words. Maybe he was trying to learn how to view her as less of a servant and more as a friend.

"All right, master." She said at last, "all right, I'll stay."

He smirked at her, trying to mask the last of his suspicions of her. She smiled at him, hiding all the doubt she felt in her heart.

**_Late Spring, 1173_**

Guy had been wandering through the forest for nearly an hour. He was about ready to give up his search. It was obvious that Rebecca did not want to be found, not even by him. She had run out of the manor so fast no one could have stopped her. Gemma hadn't even tried, not that she was capable of doing anything at the moment. It hadn't been anyone's fault. Life had a way of turning upside down on a whim. That's what Guy was starting to understand.

He should go back to the manor. Rebecca would come back when she had calmed down, but Guy was feeling selfish tonight and he had all the reason in the world to be. "Becca!" He called out for her again. He did not receive an answer. Then an idea struck him. The river! He made his way towards the thicket which had served as his and Rebecca's hideaway. Pushing aside a few low hanging branches, he made his way into the dense and leaf filled fortress. It was the perfect place for one to run to when one did not wish to be found.

Guy could hear the trickling sound of the water flowing in the river which ran along beside him. He hid behind the trunk of the tree at the sound of crying which cut through the night's stillness. He cautiously leaned over to see Rebecca huddled up against the trunk of the tree. Her knees had been brought to her chest, and she had her head buried in her arms. She was sobbing quietly. Wary of disturbing her, Guy backed up a pace.

"Go away." Rebecca said quietly, having heard someone sneaking up on her.

"I just wanted to see if you were all right." Guy replied, no point in denying his presence any longer.

"I'm fine. Now go away." Rebecca snapped, her voice hitching with every breath she took.

Guy walked around to the front of the tree. Rebecca had her face purposefully turned away. "No." He said, and sat down beside her.

Rebecca glared up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She gave a thin sniff and turned her face towards the river, staring out at it as she watched the water roll by. "It's not fair." She whispered. "My father shouldn't have--it's not..." she looked over at Guy. "It's not fair..."

Guy placed his arms about Rebecca, giving her a comforting hug. He felt her shudder agaisnt him and she wrapped her arms about him tightly, squeezing her eyes shut as she held him. "An' I thought I was gonna loose ya too! If your father hadn't...if--oh, God, Guy! They could have hanged ya!"

"They wanted to..." Guy said, trying not to remember what it was like standing up on that scaffold, or how the coarse hood rubbed against his face and neck as it had been shoved on him.

"Ya didn't fire that arrow did ya?" Rebecca asked, tears still falling down her face.

"No!"

"Didn't believe ya did for a second." Rebecca hushed, seeing that she had appalled him by asking.

"What's gonna happen now?" Rebecca whispered.

"I don't know." Guy said, his own voice feeling shaky in his throat.

Rebecca leaned against him. Her cries had left her sapped of energy and she felt about as withered as a leaf in winter. She felt herself curling up; as if hoping to just disappear entirely. She should be back with her mother. She should be with her attempting to comfort her, but she couldn't bear to hear her mother crying. Her mother never cried and it had frightened her to hear the rough and ragged sound of her grief. So she had run as far away from it as she could.

"I'm sorry, Becca." Guy said, his hands rubbing comfortingly up and down her back.

She flinched at his apologies. It wasn't his fault that her father was dead, but she couldn't help but feel a stark sense of injustice. "It's not your fault." She said, raising her tear-stained face to his.

The kiss happened suddenly. Neither knew who had thought to instigate it first, perhaps it had been instinctive. They had been so close to one another that blame could hardly be assigned. Anger and grief were knocked from Rebecca's mind as forcefully as if a mace had struck her full on the head. She clutched at him, holding him to her as tight as she could.

Guy shifted her in his arms, placing a hand upon her cheek, tilting Rebecca's head lightly upwards. She fit perfectly against him. Guy had often wondered what it would be like to kiss those smiling and laughing lips, now he knew. He held his friend to him as close as he could; wanting to forget the confusion and horror that the night's events had brought. Now he knew what it meant to be hated, so much so that his own people had been willing to see him die and do nothing. He wanted to forget. He wanted so much to remain ignorant of the villagers' prejudices. Now that his father was back, what would happen to them all? He had been gone for so long, Guy had almost accepted the fact that he would never return. Was he relieved, or was he scared?

But he didn't want to think. He wanted to hold onto the one person in the whole of Gisborne, outside of his family, who cared for him--possibly in the whole of Nottingham. She was so soft against him, and warm. The kiss grew in ferocity as hesitant confusion turned into a need for comfort from the other. Guy's fingers tangled into Rebecca's long, dark hair, pulling her closer still to him as he felt her open underneath him.

Such a sudden awakening of passion startled Rebecca. She pulled away from Guy, panting. She struggled to force air back into her lungs for a second. She could hear Guy gasping for air as well. They looked at one another, eyes wide, mirroring the other's expression. The spell of brief serenity broken; Rebecca slowly pulled herself out of Guy's grasp, who, at first, seemed unwilling to let her go. She rose to her feet on shaking legs. She pressed a hand to her red and swollen lips. "We should go back t' the manor..." she breathed, "we should be with our families."

"Yes..." Guy exhaled, his chest still heaving with the effort. "Yes...you're right..."

They walked back in silence, neither wishing to speak to the other, especially after what they had just done. Rebecca was not so much of a fool that she did not know that a master could do whatever he wished with his servants. What she did know was that she would not be one of those servants. She also knew that Guy was not likely to ever put her in a position where her reputation would be called into question. They had shared a moment of weakness. They had desired comfort from one another, of course they should have wanted to fall into each other's arms. It would not happen again.

* * *

**A/N: Rebecca's father is mentioned quite a few times in the story, but is never seen. This might cause confusion over certain events, hopefully not so much. If there seems to be too many misunderstandings I will, of course, do my best to go back and fix them. :) **


	14. Insincerity

XIV

Insincerity

Rebecca had fallen asleep in the chair beside Guy's bed. She had no idea when she had drifted off, for the next thing she knew was the slanted glare of the sun shining through the slitted windows. It caught her face and she blinked open her eyes. At first she let out a lazy and contented yawn and merely curled up all the more on her chair. It was then she realized she was sitting on a chair in the first place. This realization brought with it a startled squeak and a jolt which nearly sent her crashing to the floor in a heap.

Gaining her bearings she glanced about the room. Guy was still fast asleep and he did not look as if he would wake anytime soon. Rebecca highly doubted he would, what with all the blood he had so recently lost. He looked quite pale and helpless lying amongst the quilt and pillows. He would need more than one good night's rest in order to regain his strength. Once again Rebecca felt her heart undergo all the familiar sensations of a wet cloth being wrung dry in her chest.

She placed a hand against his forehead lightly, checking for fever. To her surprise he felt rather cold to the touch. Rising from her chair she began to search the room for any extra quilts or blankets. She tried to be as quiet as possible in her search. She found one blanket in the depths of one of the trunks in the far corner of the room. She drew it forth, it was warm enough, it would do. Unfolding it, she draped it over Guy gently. He did not even stir in his sleep. Rebecca smiled, almost relieved, at least this spared her any awkward conversation.

Even thinking on last night brought on a dizziness. Guy hadn't even been feverish and yet he had spoken so candidly to her. He hadn't done such a thing in years. Rebecca had resigned herself to the fact that he no longer cared or remembered everything they had been to one another, but last night he had decided to say that he did remember. Inseparable. That's what he had called them. What had prompted such a statement? Perhaps she shouldn't wonder over such things, no sense in getting greedy over it. Point was that he remembered, whether or not he liked it, whether or not he wanted to admit it, he did remember.

Perhaps Isabella had misunderstood her brother that day. Perhaps what he had truly meant was that he had been pleased to find her a place outside of the manor so that he could think over what she had said. Isabella wouldn't have understood, because she had not been witness to their conversation just a few days before! That was it. She had misunderstood, because Guy's actions had been far from that of a master about to release a servant. They hadn't even been of master and servant. More of a friend finding a friend after a long separation. Rebecca tried to calm her hopes, which were already rising too far and too fast. She tried to stop herself from getting too far ahead. She should wait until Guy woke up and then judge what his mood was for herself. It may come to pass that last night was a mere quirk, and that he would rather forget anything he had said to her. Then of course it could be the complete opposite...this back and forth within Rebecca's head went on until she realized--

"Isabella!" She whispered, slapping a hand over her mouth. She had almost forgotten about her. No doubt she would be looking for her. She had to find her before she realized she had not spent the night in the servant's quarters.

She started for the door, but doubled back in a frenzy toward the window. She swiftly closed the drapes, cutting off the ray of light filling the room. Guy needed as much rest as he could manage. The sun would just have to wait until he rose. Rebecca made her way out into the corridor beyond the bedchamber. She breathed in a deep sigh before taking off down the way to try and find Isabella.

It was pure luck which had them both round the same corner opposite of one another. The two women gave a slight start at seeing one another from down the end of the hall. Rebecca even managed a laugh as she approached her mistress. "Good morning, my lady!"

"Becca..." Isabella nodded, raising an eyebrow at the chipper servant.

"How are ya, my lady? Most beautiful day out, wouldn't ya say?" Rebecca smiled, and Isabella was briefly reminded of the woman's former cheerful grins. Those dark eyes were all laughter.

"I wouldn't know." Isabella said, "I have only seen it through the archways and windows."

"Then what in hell's name are we doing here? Fine waste o' a morning." Rebecca teased.

"You are certainly brimming with joy this morning, aren't you Becca? You're positively beaming."

"Why not, my lady?" Rebecca shrugged with a light sigh. She smoothed wrinkles out of her linen dress.

"What's caused such a significant alteration, I wonder?" Isabella mused, walking in circles about her, as if amusing herself with a mock analysis of her servant's status. She leaned in close and whispered mockingly, "Not my brother, surely?"

"Wouldn't that be foolish." Rebecca maintained a lightly secretive air. She felt her arm clasped in Isabella's as they both walked down the hallway together.

"I was curious as to what he wanted with you last night." Isabella said in a most conspiratorial manner, "If I asked you to tell me, would you oblige me with an answer?"

"My lady, since when were ya ever interested in silly gossip?" Rebecca fired back, "I remember ya threw a dish towel in Jane's face when ya grew tired o' her blabbering on."

"Well, as I have no dish towel to throw at you, you should consider this a privilege." Isabella retorted, gripping Rebecca's arm with a slightly more determined squeeze. The wry smile on her lips was frozen on her face. She would hear what Guy had wanted with Rebecca last night. He had said something or _done_ something to her to make her so foolishly giddy. Only a fool so infatuated with love would ever grin so insufferably long.

"It was truly nothing." Rebecca insisted, "He had gash along his leg which needed t' be tended to."

"Why could he not have sent for a physician then?" Isabella snorted. A gash? How had that come about? It didn't have anything to do with the Sheriff's recent demise did it? She would stake her life that her brother was somehow the cause of his death. The wound would prove he had at least had a fight with someone.

"He didn't ask for one." Rebecca said, "Besides, I've seen the master with far worse than a cut on his leg." She laughed.

"And bandaging my brother has put you in such a giddy mood? Well, we should see that he is injured more often." Isabella did allow for an honest chuckle.

"It is not what I did for your brother, my lady, it is what he said t' me." Rebecca said.

"Oh? You are exceedingly enigmatic, Becca. Out with it." Isabella insisted. Let her have out with it before she broke her neck with this frustration.

"I think you misunderstood him when ya spoke with him last, my lady. I don't think he ever meant t' turn me from Locksley. We...we spoke briefly about what passed between us an'...I think he truly heard me for once. I think he wants t' change what was. Is that not good?"

"I marvel at it." Isabella said tightly. She bit her lip so hard she swore she felt the tangy taste of her own blood on her tongue. Damn Guy for undoing all her work. She had felt she had been gaining a foothold on Rebecca's heart and mind. Now that Rebecca was convincing herself that there had been a misunderstanding, all because her brother--no doubt--had a moment of weakness, all her planning could very well be for naught. She would not allow this. "But what if he is lying to you?"

"I thought o' that already, my lady." Rebecca said, "An' I think I'll wait t' hear his own words once he wakes." She smiled again, "It's not like it hasn't happened before. Rather not feel too terrible about it though." She looked out past the archway towards the bright morning, "Far too beautiful a day t' worry."

***

Guy awoke to a muffled darkness and as he blinked open his eyes he began to question if it was still night or he had slept straight through the day. A thin groan escaped his lips as he sat up. His injured leg throbbed with a demonic urgency; moving it even a fraction of an inch caused pain to shoot up the length of his leg to reside in the pit of his stomach. He allowed himself to lie back down, realizing he would not be escaping from this bed anytime soon.

He craned his head to the window. A dark curtain had been drawn over it, but he could see slivers of light trying to fight their way into the room. So it was morning after all--or afternoon, he couldn't be sure. He stared curiously at an empty chair at his bedside. It was turned outward as if someone had risen from it. Rebecca must have left him at one point during the night. He felt hollowly disappointed that she was not with him, but had he really expected her to stay? Maybe there might have been a time when she would have, but she had stated quite plainly that she was no longer his friend and he had no right to assume such a thing of her.

Disappointment rapidly turned into heated anger. Rebecca was his servant, who was she to dictate what he could or could not expect from her? If it was in his power he would have risen from his bed and gone to seek her out and tell her exactly that. He would not be made to feel guilty at her hands again.

It was then the door creaked open, letting in a flood of light which illuminated the room with such a joyful speed he thought the sun was mocking him. "Oh!" A delighted gasp caught his attention, "You're awake!"

Guy had to blink his eyes rapidly to adjust to the sudden brightness. Rebecca bustled into the room, carrying a tray laden with bread, a tankard of ale, and more medical supplies. She set it down upon the desk. He watched, dumbfounded, as she crossed the room to the window and flung back the curtain. Guy felt as if he should recoil from so much light. "How are ya feeling, master?" Rebecca asked, gathering up the bandages she had brought in with her.

"Fine." he croaked out. He thought Rebecca had left him.

"Don't ya lie t' me, master." Rebecca retorted, steadily unwrapping the old bandages from about Guy's leg. She could see him wincing all the while.

"I'm not lying--ah! Damn it, woman are you trying to kill me?!" Guy swore at her as she gave the last of the bandages a swift tug to remove them.

Rebecca merely snickered as she changed his bandages, this time treating him far gentler than before. "You're smiling." Guy pointed out bluntly.

"Sorry, master." Rebecca said.

"Why are you smiling?" He felt as if she was a stranger to him. He once knew her better than anyone alive, and now she was so far away from him it was as if he was staring at the most distant star in the sky.

"No offence t' ya, master, I swear. I...suppose it's 'cause I'm happy." Rebecca shrugged, "Or I think I am."

"Seeing your master injured and confined to his bed makes you happy?" Guy's voice bristled with intended insult.

Rebecca laughed, her fingers working deftly to wrap the bandages about him tightly. The tugging shot sickening pain through him for a moment before it faded, and as she tied the bandage off Guy realized the pain from his wound wasn't as bad as when he had first woken up. "There. Try an' make that do for the day. I ain't bandaging ya up again. I ain't your nursemaid."

Guy smirked as he lazily tore off a piece of bread from the tray beside him, "That's what you said after I fell from my horse and broke my arm, and then again after I caught a fever from staying out in the rain with you." He commented between mouthfuls.

"Ya remember?" Rebecca whispered with astonishment. She was still smiling, but now it appeared as if she might cry as well.

"Don't you?" Guy shrugged, trying to pass this off as an everyday occurrence. In truth he had not mentioned their childhood misadventures in years. Such sentimentality was beyond him, and he could see that it was having an affect upon Rebecca. It was making him uncomfortable. He tried to look away from her. He didn't deserve to see her smiling; he hadn't for a long time.

A hand appeared at the corner of his eyes, causing him to turn and look up at her. "C'mon, master, I'll be damned if I see ya waste a day abed."

"I can't get up." Guy said petulantly, glaring at her like a pouting child.

"'Course ya can." Rebecca scoffed, "Saw a bench out in the cloisters, not too far a walk from this room. I think ya can make it there. Be better than sulking alone in here."

"Yeah? And what would you care?"

"A great deal more than ya, I'd say, master." Rebecca said sharply, knowing full well when Guy was arguing for the sake of argument. Was nothing ever simple with this man?

Rebecca felt Guy reluctantly take hold of her hand. Helping him sit up, he quickly slung an arm about her shoulder as he tried to rise. He nearly fell back upon the bed, but Rebecca grabbed him and held him steady. With Rebecca helping to support him they made it to the door of the room. "See?" Rebecca could not help but giggle, "We're managing just fine, master."

Guy merely held tight to her as they walked, careful not to lean too much upon her. Rebecca was significantly smaller than he was, and if he wasn't careful he would topple them both. Rebecca had both her arms about his waist, and Guy found that he could limp fairly easily with her help. For a brief moment he wanted to draw Rebecca in closer to him and hold her properly, not merely have her be his support. The urge faded and he wondered where it had come from. Perhaps it had been from her smile. He had forgotten how beautiful it could be when those dark eyes of hers suddenly lit up as if to rival the shine of the sun. He was staring at her and he didn't even know it until he nearly stumbled. Rebecca tightened her hold about him, whispering reassurances all the while, "I've got ya, master." she said, "I've got ya."

**_1193_**

With the last of the candles in the hall lit, Rebecca was keen on making her way back to the servant's quarters for the rest of the evening. Grasping the handle of her candle holder she trundled her way down the shadowy hall towards the door which would led around to the back of the manor.

She was stopped by the sound of voices coming from the room to her right. Casting a lazy, sideways glance she saw a figure standing in the centre of the room, a fire crackled in the hearth, dispelling the gloom from the halls beyond. Rebecca recognized Lady Marian in an instant. What was she doing in Locksley at this hour of the night? Rebecca immediately took a step back as she saw Guy come to stand before Marian. He was clothed in nothing by his trousers, and as he walked calmly and confidently over towards Marian she could hear the light clink of the armoured leg guards he was wearing. Blushing bright red to the roots of her hair, Rebecca slammed herself against the wall beside the entrance to the room. Her mind began to form bright, little questions which served no purpose, but to confuse her.

Marian had left Guy at the alter almost a month ago. What more could she possible want with him? She didn't want to hear whatever those two were discussing. Marian should not have even been allowed back into Locksley after what she did. Peeling herself away from the wall, Rebecca walked right past the glowing warmth of the fire-lit room and back towards the servant's quarters. She moved with such an urgency she could hear every step of her shoes upon the wooden floorboards, and ever brush of her linen dress upon the ground. Shadowy night brushed upon her skin, causing her bangs to bounce upon her forehead. She was submerged in darkness. Completely silent and black darkness.

That was when she realized she had forgotten her candle upon the mantel. In her haste to avoid eavesdropping she had left the candle and it's holder behind. Cursing her absentmindedness she skittered back to retrieve her candle. She fancied herself as quiet as any mouse as she snuck over to the mantel. Snatching it up she whirled about to make haste back to her quarters. In her speed she nearly collided into the very woman she sought to avoid. Marian blinked in surprise and took a step back to evade the crash. "Rebecca?"

Rebecca winced, "My lady." She willed herself to perform half a curtsy.

"What are you doing, sneaking around?" Marian asked her.

"Forgot my candle, my lady. Left it on the mantle by accident. Got it now. I'll bid ya a good night." Rebecca said through gritted teeth. She would not be chastised by her. She tried to walk past her, but she was stopped by Marian's words.

"You never did like me did you, Rebecca?" Marian's voice held cold humour in it.

"My lady, I would...I never...." she said, "No, my lady, I haven't."

"Why is that? Have I done something to offend you?"

"Not me, my lady." Rebecca shook her head, not entirely comfortable standing in the middle of a shadowy hallway telling a noblewoman why she disliked her, especially when there was strange sincerity behind Marian's words. Why was she being kind to her? "My master."

"I see..." Marian said in that quipped tone that could so often be mistaken for one of disdain.

How could she be so callous as that? "Ya don't see, my lady!" Rebecca said emphatically, "Ya never have."

"Then, perhaps you might explain how I have been so blind." Marian insisted.

Rebecca fumbled a bit, eyeing Marian with a wary eye. "Don't be so nervous. I'm giving you leave to speak freely." Marian said.

"Ya left him. Ya made it clear o' your feelings for him an' o' course I can't dislike ya for that, but...now...with ya coming t' the manor in the middle o' the night--"

"I can understand why you would take me for a fickle woman." Marian said and she seemed to be reminding herself of a previous conversation, "But there are things that you are not aware of, which are of importance."

"I am sure." Rebecca shrugged non-offensively, "but are such things worth the hurt ya cause? My master may not have been the most talented at showing it, but he loved ya, my lady, an' he loves ya still. Turn your games elsewhere for your 'important matters' an' leave my master be."

"And this is why you dislike me?" Marian asked.

Rebecca gave no answer, she merely stared at her with cold indifference. She shifted about, her candle shaking in her hands. Shadows crossed over Marian's face, making her expression unnoticeable. "Shall I show ya the way out, my lady?" Rebecca asked.

"That will not be necessary." Marian said as she turned to leave. "Rebecca."

"My lady?"

"Sir Guy is very lucky."

"How is that, my lady?"

"To have so loyal a friend as you."

"I am not his friend." Marian could not help but hear the sudden snap to the woman's voice, and she knew then that she had struck upon a tender nerve with her. "I am his servant."

"What does that have anything to do with it?" Marian smiled mischievously, seeing the glares being shot her way from the envious woman.

"Good night, my lady." Rebecca said thinly, and she turned and slipped away back into the shadowy halls, her candle light spinning and bouncing all the while.

* * *

**A/N: I actually don't hate Marian. I like her quite a lot actually, and writing a character that has a very strained and envious relationship towards her is a lot of fun for me to write. Anyway, do remember to review! :)  
**


	15. Spies

XV

Spies

They made an odd couple sitting alone in the cloisters; master and servant. The tree which shaded them from the midday sun was highlighted to a golden green from the summer warmth. A few guards who passed by on their patrol gave short looks to the pair, but did not tarry long in their looks to think much of it. The servants may have whispered here and there; some being right in their gossip, others talking for the sake of speaking.

The pair themselves were hardly speaking and when they did it was in too soft and low of tones to be heard clearly. They seemed comfortable enough in their silences. If one walked too quickly by, one might have made the mistake of assuming them to be lovers stealing away a few moments alone, but the distance which separated them upon the wooden bench was one which signified anything but love. The man sat up straight, with an icy pride which turned his gaze to one of scorn upon anyone who dared to look at him directly. Often his glacier eyes swerved to look over to the tree, as if recalling something very distant. At this he seemed to shrink in posture, as if to hide, or as if to shatter. Sometimes he glanced over at his companion; calculation and aloofness in his eyes. He examined her as one might a specimen in a looking glass, or a figure flashing past a window.

The woman; however, was radiating with adoration. She kept her eyes upon the ground when he would gaze at her, but her hands were clasped so tightly in her lap it appeared as if she would tear the linen dress with the pressure. When the man's gaze flickered away from hers she would occasionally raise her head and look at him with all the appearance of wishing to drown in his image. It was no small wonder why a few supposed them to be lovers. She was glowing with it. It was spilling out of her in every direction. Perhaps she thought she was containing it with her shy gestures and mousy posture, but with every recoil it was only more certain. The man, a few whispered, must be blind.

When she looked at him and when she spoke she inched just a little closer. Her hands bound tight to her as if she had tied a rope about her body to restrain herself from reaching out to him. Her gaze did not whisper wildly at him with words of 'love me, love me, love me!' No, but with every gesture it was as if she was allowing her affection to wrap about this man and seal the cracks in his soul she saw so keenly. She was quiet and her lips were almost pale white as if she was at war with herself to give over her secret. It was a foolish cruelty for them to be as dogs hoping for scraps of comfort when both were staring into a veritable well of the source. This was how the master and his servant sat, and this was how Isabella found them.

At first she was surprised to see her brother and her maidservant alongside each other. She tugged at the laces of her riding cloak, it was growing to be far too hot a day to tolerate it's heavy fibres a moment longer. She kept herself concealed, not wishing to disturb the two just yet. Perhaps they would say something of interest; if the two would ever speak. She soon had her reward.

"She came to me once...just here." Guy whispered so softly Rebecca first thought that the wind had been playing tricks with her. "She tried to calm me after the Sheriff scorned my plans."

"Master..." Rebecca sighed, knowing at once he was speaking of Marian.

He let out a rattling, derisive laugh, "It was two years ago...not so long ago. She touched my shoulder as she spoke to me. I can still..." He lowered his head, placing it in his hands, his fingers knotting their way through his unkempt hair.

"Stop..." Rebecca said in a short breath. He knew he spoke to her because he trusted her, but for one moment she wished he could have not and that he could have gone on being silent. "Oh, stop, ya don't have t' remember, master."

"Yes I do." His voice was raw with emotion, "That is my punishment. I can not forget her. I would not want to."

Rebecca reached out her hand wanting to take his in her own, but at a glance she stayed the motion. She placed her hand instead upon the cold bench, clutching the edge so tightly her knuckles turned white. "I shouldn't have brought ya here. Forgive me, I--"

Guy shook his head, turning to look at her with something other than indifference. "I'm glad you did." he told her.

"Do ya want me t' go, master?" Rebecca whispered to him, thinking to leave him to his thoughts. Expecting the answer she half rose from her seat.

A hand stayed her movements. Guy placed his hand atop her own. "No." He said firmly, but his gaze had gone back over to the tree. He was gazing at it with a distant intensity, conjuring up the image of Marian and hoping by sheer longing he could bring her back to him. He did not even look at the very tangible, and now trembling woman at his side. "Stay with me awhile longer." He whispered, half to himself, but whether he was talking to the ghost or to her, Rebecca could not be sure.

"Yes, master." Rebecca whispered, interlocking her fingers with his own, wishing that she could do so much more for him. A tear fell unnoticed down her cheek.

Somewhere beneath the two stone pillars to the couple's right, Isabella smiled coldly, enough to send shivers down the devil's spine.

**_Early Summer, 1173_**

It would prove impossible to forget the happenings of that horrid morning. Dawn had hardly broken before light limped across the sky. The entire village had turned out to watch the proceedings. They looked as gleeful as mourners at the funereal. Gemma Tanner was crying again and her daughter swore that she had never cried so many times before as she had these past few weeks. Rebecca followed her mother out of the manor like a lame dog with its tail between its legs. They crowded in with the others and blended in among the sea of solemn faces.

It couldn't be true, and yet it undoubtedly was: Sir Roger of Gisborne was a leper. Gemma clung to her daughter's hand and Rebecca found she had not the courage to lift her head to look at her master or his family. Perhaps if she did not look it did not have to be real. She winced as she heard Ghislaine crying. She seethed as she heard the priest speak so callously. She wanted to be anywhere, but standing over the grave of a living man. Gemma gave her daughter's hand a shake and Rebecca knew she was silently chastising her to look up. Rebecca raised her eyes for a moment, in time to see the retreating form of her master. They would never see him again and all had been made into uncertainty in the same instant.

"I want ya t' see." Gemma whispered to her daughter. Rebecca knew better than to argue.

As the rest of the village dispersed back to their homes, Rebecca embraced her mother. "It's gonna be all right." She said, "Isn't it?"

Gemma brushed off the embrace, drying her eyes on the sleeve of her dress she took her daughter by the arm and led her back to the manor. "There was a time not too long ago, when I would have said yes. Shame ya can't be a child for just a minute longer. We'll manage. I don't know how, but we'll make do. I need t' go an' see t' the mistress now. She'll be wanting for friends now, lord knows."

"Mother!" Rebecca called out, she had been hoping to spend more time with her. Everything was going wrong and she was frightened. What would happen to them without a master? It was not as if Sir Roger had gone away to fight a war in a distant land. He was dead to all who knew him now. What would this mean? The villagers were not likely to let a woman continue governing this estate, especially when they already despised her for her French blood.

"What is it?" Gemma asked, looking back at her daughter.

Rebecca paused. Her mother had spoken to her before as she would a woman not a girl. She wouldn't be able to hide behind her mother's skirts anymore. She would have to bear the strain of whatever burden should fall upon their shoulders. She shook her head, "Nevermind." Her knees were shaking and her throat felt parch. She needed water. She turned to make her way towards the manor; hopefully there would be something she could do for a time to sufficiently clear away all her dark thoughts.

As she crossed the grounds she saw Guy running towards her. His head was down and he wasn't looking where he was going and it was obvious that he didn't care. Rebecca could see the confusion and pain he was in so clearly it stopped her dead in her tracks. Guy glanced up, his eyes wild with mourning hatred. He staggered a bit when he realized he had nearly collided with his friend. He sped up his pace all the more to get to her. Upon reaching her he clumsily wrapped Rebecca in his arms, and she did the same. "Becca..." It was such a sad and lost whisper.

"I'm here." She gasped out.

Then he did something that Rebecca would never have expected: he began to cry. It was barely perceptible at first. He hardly made a sound. He quietly lowered his head onto her shoulder and sobbed with all the restraint of one ashamed of the action, but unable to contain it a moment longer. Rebecca never let on that she knew he was crying. She held him tightly, neither hushing nor verbally consoling him. She cast wary glances all about her. They were out in the opening, standing in between the path leading to the servant's quarters and the side of the manor. Anyone could come walking along and spot them together.

"It isn't right." Guy said hatefully, "They had no _right _to force him to leave! He's their master--"

"And it's for all o' our sakes he left." Rebecca said, "He's a sick man, Guy. He could infect the entire village."

"My mother would have taken care of him." Guy swore.

"And caught the disease herself? Or ya? Or the little mistress?"

"You're siding with _them?!" _He immediately pulled away from her regarding her with same scornful look that she had come to loathe when he would give it to others.

"No!" Rebecca said, "I'm saying he was trying t' protect ya!"

"He should have fought for us instead." Guy muttered darkly, "If your father was here he'd have rather died than see him thrown from his own home!"

Rebecca lowered her head quietly. Guy sucked in his breath, for a brief moment horrified by what he had said, "I didn't mean that." he whispered, trying to draw the now shying woman back into his arms. "I swear I didn't."

"I know..." Rebecca said, finally allowing herself to be taken back into her friend's embrace. She kissed his cheek softly before nestling against him.

"Lord Malcolm stays with us." Guy growled, "Him and his brat. It makes me sick, Becca. I don't want them in Gisborne, but mother says I should welcome him. I don't like Malcolm, I don't like how he looks at my home with the eye of one who thinks he already owns it."

"But he doesn't." Rebecca assuaged. "I suspect ya do now."

"I don't want it." Guy spat.

"That's not true." Rebecca hushed.

"It is. I don't want to run this estate. I don't know how...I can't--"

"Ya will learn, Guy. I'll help ya."

"You? Help me? You wouldn't understand any of it." Guy choked in between tears and condescending laughter.

"Then we'll make a fine pair, won't we?" She said softly, her hands rubbing along in his back in gentle, soothing strokes. It was then Guy realized she had only been edging him on to draw him away from his grief. "Ya have t' trust your parents made the right decision, Guy."

"That is easy for you to say, you have never had to doubt your mother or your father." Guy sighed.

"We have t' manage." Rebecca said, "We'll make do." She realized she was repeating her mother's words and she found her cheeks flushing pink. Somehow the words sounding more comforting when spoken. Now she understand why her mother always said them.

"That is not good enough." Guy retorted. It wouldn't be. Nothing was ever good enough. Sometimes Rebecca thought Guy expected too much from himself. His expectations of himself and others were so high that no one could possibly meet them, and so he was forever frustrated with some aspect or other. Rebecca would not continue with this self-pitying conversation. Let him have his moment of grief. Let him have his doubts and his frustrations. In time he would come into his own.

Rebecca felt Guy kiss her neck. Obviously at least one thing was good enough for him, and that was her. She managed a small little smile as she let him indulge in this one comfort they both shared. Guy's lips quickly claimed hers and Rebecca willing sank into the few moments of oblivion. She was no longer scared of such acts, as she had been all those few weeks ago when Guy had first tried to kiss her. She had promised herself that such a thing would not happen again, but she found that Guy could be a rather persuasive young man when he wished to be. This was rapidly becoming a habit, and Rebecca was finding less and less of a reason to refuse.

A surprised and almost taunting gasp caused the pair to split apart. Young Robin of Locksley was staring at them from his hiding place around the manor's outer walls. Seeing that his position had suddenly become compromised the young boy quickly turned and fled.

"You little sneak!" Guy shouted, chasing after him in a fury.

Robin stood no chance against the older boy. He was dragged back by the collar of his shirt. Guy looked as if he would choke the life out of the boy. Rebecca had never seen such anger in Guy's eyes. She had never thought him capable of it. "What do you think you're doing? Spying on me for your father?"

"I wasn't spying!" Robin coughed as she tried to struggle out of Guy's grip. He swung and flopped about on the floor like a fish in it's death throes. "I was gonna apologize to you for what I said, but then you started talking to her," He tried to point over to Rebecca, "So I was gonna wait!"

"Liar." Guy hissed.

"Am not!" Robin whined, "Anyway, didn't think you were gonna start _kissing_ her. If you don't let me go, maybe I will tell--" Guy yanked him by the collar silencing the boy.

"If you say one word of this I'll kill you." Guy threatened.

"Guy!" Rebecca placed a hand upon his arm, this was getting out of hand. "Let him go."

"He _saw _us, Becca. He'll tell his father!" Guy shouted.

"And strangling the poor lad is the way t' handle it? What's gotten inta ya?" Rebecca chided.

Shamefaced, Guy loosened his grip upon Robin, but he was far from letting him go. Rebecca knelt down so that she was eye level with the boy. "Do ya know who I am, Master Robin?"

Robin shook his head, wide eyed. "My name is Rebecca." She went on, "I'm Guy's friend. Do ya know what ya saw today could get me in a lot o' trouble, Master Robin?"

Robin nodded slowly, but Rebecca couldn't be sure if he truly understood the situation or not. "Now, I know ya don't like my master, an' ya probably think telling your father about this would be rather funny, right? Do ya know what could happen t' me? I could be whipped, or put in the stocks, or even sent away from Gisborne. If a friend o' yours had that happen t' them would ya want that?"

"No." Robin said slowly, "But you're not my friend!"

"If people let others get hurt just because they weren't friends, where would we be, Master Robin? Guy won't hurt ya, he'll let ya go. An' we can all forget all o' this a never speak o' it again."

"I don't have to listen to you, you know." Robin pointed out smugly even as he felt Guy tug once more upon his collar.

Rebecca gritted her teeth, it was getting rather hard to remain civil with the boy, "I know that, Master Robin, but I am also certain ya are not the kind o' boy t' see anyone get hurt."

There was a silence for a minute and Rebecca lost her stern look. She looked at him with pleading eyes. Robin was just a boy. He would not understand, but she could only pray that he would try to. "I won't tell anyone." He finally said grudgingly.

"Thank ya, Master Robin." Rebecca said getting to her feet.

Guy was reluctant to let the boy go, but realizing if he detained him any longer they might loose the little trust that they had built. He released his hold about Robin's collar and the boy went running back to the manor. Rebecca placed a hand upon Guy's arm, but he jerked away from her violently. "We can't do this." Rebecca sighed.

Guy shook his head, the fire in his eyes had not gone out just yet, "So it's not enough that Locksley rids me of my father, but that he frightens you away as well?" He spat venomously.

"I haven't gone anywhere." Rebecca countered, "But if word of this gets out--you'll be the master of this manor now an' this'll drag your standing into the mud an' I won't have that, Guy!"

Guy knew that she was right. "I don't want to lose you." He said quietly, as if admitting this was uncomfortable.

So he did care for her. She knew he did, but it was nice to be reminded of it every once in a while. "What would ya have me do?!" She said desperately as she saw no solution in sight.

"We'll be more careful. Make sure no one sees us." Guy fumbled.

"Grand plan, Guy." Rebecca snorted, rolling her eyes, "I see we've gotten off on a fine start."

"I don't see you coming up with anything helpful!" Guy turned on her accusingly.

"Sorry." Rebecca grunted, rubbing at her temples, "It is just--"

"Meet me by the river tonight after midnight." Guy said coldly, "I'll expect you; that is, if you have a care for our friendship at all!"

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**A/N: I had oh so much fun while writing this chapter. I just love it when things flow so easily. :) Hope you enjoyed it and the next chapter will be soon! **


	16. Painted Traitor

**Sorry for the delay in updates. I was away for the past few days, but I'm back now for the rest of the summer and yes, I will try and be as diligent with my updates during the fall semester as I have been during the break. :) **

**WARNING: This chapter contains suggestive mature themes. Well...it heads into the more explicit, but I don't think it's very detailed so I'm labeling it more suggestive. I don't normally put heavy sexual content in my stories because I think it takes away from the point of the story in some minute way. That being said this story is going to have more sexual content later on; having never written explicit content before I'm not sure if I'm going to be pleased with the end result. I apologize if scenes of this nature are offensive to any of my readers.

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XVI

Painted Traitor

For once in Rebecca's life she was almost pleased to be going back to Locksley. She sat silent in the carriage. Now that they were out of the town all around them was greenery. She was rather grateful to be enclosed, for the past few days the temperature had been rising to almost intolerable levels. It would be dry summer to be sure.

Rebecca's gaze flickered from Isabella to Guy. The two were at obvious odds with one another, for neither engaged in conversation or bothered to look at each other. Rebecca was sitting beside Isabella and she was staring out the window next to her. Guy sat directly across from Rebecca, and was--much to her surprise--staring at her. Not wanting to talk, Rebecca merely raised an eyebrow at him, as if to ask him what it was he wanted, or what he was thinking. When she shot him these challenging looks Guy would quickly avert his eyes as if he hadn't thought to glance her way.

Rebecca had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. She felt like rather childish. She was reminded of times when she and Guy had had to keep their silences while remaining in the same room as the other. They would often shoot each other inquiring looks, but more often than not, when no one was looking Rebecca would attempt to make Guy laugh.

Rebecca cleared her throat, covering her mouth with her hand. Guy was no longer looking at her, he was resting his head against the side of the carriage, but Rebecca could see the thin smirk upon his lips. Rouge, he was doing this on purpose. Isabella glanced over her shoulder at her. Saving face, Rebecca tapped her throat in an apologetic gesture. "Not sickening for something are you, Becca?"

"No...must be the heat." Rebecca shrugged, feeling rather strange to have broken the tedious silence.

If Guy's leg had not still be hurting him, she would have kicked him. As it was, Rebecca shifted her focus back to the window and did not let her eyes stray away from it for the rest of the ride to Locksley.

***

Rebecca walked into the servant's quarters with little bravado, as if she had not been gone for nearly a week. There were only three servants still in the quarters, one maid and two young lads who were helping her sweep up. All activity ceased as soon as she walked in. She gave them a smile and a little wave. "No need t' stop on my occasion." She said cheerfully. "Just came t' collect my things."

"Collect your things?" One of the boys asked, "What for?"

"The master's sister is staying with us for a time an' I'm t' be her maidservant while she's here. She made me up a cot in her room. Doesn't want me too far I suppose." Rebecca said casually as she gathered up the sheets from her old cot. She smiled as she saw the three servants exchange curious glances from the corner of her eye. They had good cause to be confused, for all they knew she was a veritable stranger to the new lady. Rebecca was slightly pleased that she would get a bit of a rest away from the other servants. Isabella had been in a whirlwind ever since they had first set foot back in Locksley; rushing about and ordering this and that as if she was the full mistress of the manor. She had seemed in good spirits though, and Rebecca took this as a good sign. Perhaps now that she and Guy were now once again under the same roof they would at last be able to speak to one another and settle any past grievances between them. She was confident that in time they would be as they always were.

Rebecca heard the maid drop her broom in the corner and she turned around to see what had startled the girl. She gave a gasp herself when she found herself face to face with Guy. "Master?" She jumped a little, placing the bundle of sheets back onto the, now bare, straw filled mattress.

Guy was looking at her with a most unusual expression. A cross between cold calculation and confused friend. He didn't say anything at first. "Master?" Rebecca asked again in a more questioning tone. What did he want with her?

He gave his head a little shake, as if he had been lost in his thoughts for a minute, "Isabella has asked you to stay with her has she?" He asked.

Rebecca nodded. Guy looked as if he was trying to find a double meaning in the simple nod, "And you are accepting of this?"

"O' course." Rebecca shrugged, "It's my pleasure t' help your sister while she's here. Is...is that all, master?"

"Yes." Guy said bluntly as he turned to leave. He paused halfway to the door before turning about again, "No...Becca? Be careful around her."

Rebecca snickered, "I don't understand ya, master. Your sister knows I think the world 'o her. What reason should I have t' be careful?"

"Just..." He shook his head, as if suddenly displeased with himself for bothering to warn a servant of his misgivings of his own kin, "Nevermind..."

"Master!" Rebecca called out again, causing Guy to stop once more. "Your leg's healing nicely...m-m-maybe later ya'd like for me t' take out those stitches?"

"I'll send for you." Guy muttered as he finally managed to make his exit.

Rebecca stood staring after him a small grin slowly spreading over her features. Guy had been stepping around her quite like an unsteady child for the past few days. Rebecca did not know what to make of it. Only a few months ago the two hardly had a word for the other and now he was seeking her out to give her warnings over her safety; stranger things had never happened.

Rebecca's blushes and smiles faded suddenly when she noticed the three servants staring openly at her. "Well?" She snapped turning back around to finish her own task, "What's the matter with ya? Forget how t' use a broom? Get back t' work!"

She finished gathering up her belongings and headed from the servant's quarters back to the manor house. She gave a little laugh as she noticed that someone was heading from the manor to the servant's quarters. Isabella was startled to see Rebecca coming towards her. She quickly tucked something unseen into the belt strapped about her dress. "Becca," She said forcing a smile to her face, "I was just on my way to see you."

"What a strange day this is turning into." Rebecca said, "Your brother just came t' see me as well, my lady."

"I know." Isabella said quickly, "I saw him crossing the grounds from the upstairs window."

"Do ya need anything, then?" Rebecca asked.

"Actually..." Isabella's eyes seemed to dart in every direction as if the words which emerged from her lips were being shifted and turned on the spot, "I was wondering if I might...help you?"

"Me?" Rebecca coughed, "Why would I be needing your help, my lady?"

"Judging from the fact that that bundle you are currently holding in your arms is almost twice as big as you...I thought I would help you carry your things into my chambers." Isabella said with a ringing laugh.

"My lady, that's very kind o' ya, but I'm sure I can handle this on my own." Rebecca smiled fondly at her. That was the girl she had helped raise, sure enough.

"Don't be stubborn." Isabella said, taking some of the bundle of sheets out of Rebecca's arms. "I don't mind helping."

"If ya insist, my lady." Rebecca rolled her eyes, falling into stride alongside Isabella as they both walked back towards the manor. She noticed that Isabella seemed far more cheerful then ever she had seen her. There was a glimmer of satisfaction in the woman's eyes. Rebecca knew that in time Isabella would warm; now it was just a matter of bridging the gap between her and her brother, but that wouldn't be too far behind. Maybe with his sister's help, Guy would find a bit of solace as well; and maybe, this place that had always felt so foreign and cold could finally feel a bit like home.

Once inside the manor Rebecca hurried her way up the stairs to the room that had been set aside for Isabella's use. She paused upon the top step, realizing that Isabella was no longer at her side or immediately behind her. She looked downstairs to see her still standing in the hall, a sly little smile on her face. Rebecca followed the line of her gaze, noticing Guy. She grinned to herself as she snuck quietly away. Let them talk.

"Good day, brother." Isabella said charmingly.

"When did I take you up as a servant?" Guy said, pointing to the small bundle in Isabella's arm.

She laughed lightly, "I'm just helping Becca move her things. She's already upstairs, no doubt waiting as we speak."

"Then don't let me keep you." Guy muttered, brushing past her.

Something fell to the floor. It must have been light as there was a only a slight tap as evidence of the crash. Yet that small tap was enough to draw the attention of both brother and sister to the same little object. "Oh?" Isabella tried to kneel down to retrieve it, but Guy snatched it up first.

It was a tag, crudely carved on a piece of wood and strung through with bits of leather and twine. Guy held it by the strap, letting the tag swing and spin in the air, it's symbol flashing each time it made a rotation. Guy stared at it for a time, as if he couldn't believe what he was holding in his hands. He then looked over at his sister accusingly and even Isabella had to take a step back for fear he would kill her where she stood. She had to work to remain calm and innocent. For if she let on that she sensed her brother's demonic anger all of this planning would have been for nothing. "Strange thing isn't it?" She said, the words coming out quickly and slurred as she hurried to speak before her brother. "Found it with Rebecca's things. I thought it might have been something her mother gave her." She held out her hand, "Don't think she'll want to lose it, I'll give it to her."

"You found this with...Becca?" Guy croaked out. "That's impossible."

Isabella giggled, "Guy, don't be ridiculous, why shouldn't Becca have this when I found it with her things?"

"Do you know what this is?" Guy demanded.

"No...should I?"

"This is Robin Hood's! _This_ is the tag he uses to mark his outlaws. Now, explain to me how _this came to be with Becca?!"_

"You're saying that this..." Isabella stammered, "is....oh no..."

"Isabella, tell me how you found this."

"I...I didn't find it. Becca was already carrying her things back to the manor and I offered to help her. She...she didn't want any help. She was adamant about it. I..I just thought she was being stubborn, but...now you say that this is Robin's..."

"Becca is not a spy." Guy stated with eerie calm as his fingers tightened over the outlaw tag.

"But, Guy..." Isabella took a few swift looks around before lowering her voice, "You're holding proof right in your hands."

This was the wrong thing to say. Isabella had to leap out of the way to avoid the sudden blow from her brother, "_Becca is not a traitor!" _

"Is something the matter? I heard shouting?" Rebecca appeared over the second floor balcony, she peered down at the siblings curiously.

Isabella gave a convincing gasp of shocked horror, "Becca! Oh...you gave me a scare. No...nothing's the matter."

"Master?"

Guy was looking down, his hand completely covering the damning evidence. He would not look up at her. He couldn't. Rebecca knew when something was wrong, "Master, are you all--"

"Becca." Isabella interrupted swiftly, "Why don't you wait for me in my chambers. I'll be up in a moment."

"Yes, my lady." Rebecca said with a small sigh before disappearing down the hall once more.

Isabella turned back to her brother, who was falling apart right before her very eyes. It was a wonderful sight. "Do you want me to handle this." She said with all the tone of a sister concerned for the well being of her brother.

"No." Guy snapped, "I will deal with her myself."

"You don't think she really could be working with Robin Hood, do you?" Isabella gasped.

"I...I don't know." He admitted, looking down at the tag in his hand.

"Guy, maybe it's time to see things as they really are. I did try to warn you..." Isabella said as she began to mount that stairs.

"My Becca would not betray me!"

Isabella raised an eyebrow at that. "Then, Guy, maybe it's time you realized that Becca is not yours, and possibly never has been."

**_1177_**

The inn was bright with raucous laughter and drunken merriment. Guy sat alone at his table nursing a tankard of ale, observing the gaiety about him with a disinterested and, as yet, sober eye. He kept himself to himself. He was only passing through the small coastal town.

There was a fair amount of significance to the rowdy inn. It was the first establishment Guy had set foot in on English soil. The ale, which he drank slowly, was the first English ale he had tasted in nearly five years. He listened to the other patrons chatter as it swirled about him. The words were spoken in English; a language that, up until a few short months ago, he thought he would never hear again. This should be his moment of absolute triumph, but all Guy could think of was how fast it would take him until he was as blissfully drunk as the others in the inn.

For four years he had toiled and struggled to earn enough money to buy passage back to England. He probably would have still been working endlessly back in France too if it hadn't been for his sister. Thank God she had been blessed with the grace and looks of veritable angel; otherwise Squire Thornton might never have noticed her. True, the nobleman had been significantly older than Isabella,but he was also significantly richer.

Isabella had been terrified at the prospective match, but Guy was her only guardian and the final decision fell upon him. He had had his doubts at first. She was only the unofficial ward of her uncle's. After she and Guy had fled to France Guy had hoped he would have been able to procure help from his mother's family, but all he had received was a cold welcome from his mother's brother. They were given lodging, but Guy worked as little more than a servant in the household. Some of his uncle's guards had taken an interest in the boy and taught him how to use a sword and how to throw a knife. These were skills he used to earn his keep and not always in the most honourable of ways. He kept this secret life hidden from Isabella, it would only upset her if she knew that he intended to pay his way back home with coins dipped in blood.

Squire Thornton had been the friend of his uncle's and upon seeing Isabella had taken an almost obsessive interest in the young maiden. Guy had tried to stall his advances only for the sake of his sister's uncertainties, but when at last Thornton, having lost all patience with the flighty girl, offered him a substantial amount of money to marry Isabella Guy had not had to give the offer a second thought. As disgraced and landless nobles they had to snap at every opportunity they could. Isabella had no dowry, and no hope of ever getting one. Guy tried to explain that she could not afford to hold of Thornton's advances any longer.

Having agreed to the engagement there was only the matter of the wedding to be taken care of. It had been a small affair. Isabella had cried. Guy had done his best to comfort her, telling her he would see her again as soon as he could. The money Guy had received from the marriage was generous enough for him to finally make his way back to England on comfortable means. He had been almost mad with his success, but he hadn't counted on how lonely it would be once he arrived.

His sister had been his sole reason for living after his parents died. Guy tried to content himself with the fact that Isabella would be more well off then he. She was even now a Lady of fair status. She would never know cold or hunger ever again in her life. This knowledge was an even greater triumph than his own current situation. He had kept his promise to her; he had provided for her.

A cheer rang out from the centre of the tavern hall. A fair skinned, dark-eyed beauty carrying a tray laden with tankards of ale and goblets of wine had come to deliver the next round of drinks to the table nearest the hearth. Guy watched in incurious amusement as the serving wench was grabbed at by drunken hands. If she did mind this flurry of touch she did not show it, for she laughed along with the men even as she was coaxed into sitting upon one of their laps as soon as she was released from her burden.

The dark-eyed woman had a charming grin, about as tempting as a serpent's. Guy was willing to bet she had the tongue to match. Reflected in the wench's smile was the memory of another far more shining and innocent one.

Guy looked down at the tankard in his hands, but the fleeting image stayed with him: dark, hazel-black eyes tinged bright with laughter and a smile curving sweet and familiar lips...Guy tried to place a stamp of hatred to the far away figure. Perhaps only trickery had been in those midnight eyes, or cruel laughter forming on those perfect lips. After all this figure had not been there when he had needed her the most. He never managed to hate this ghost of his past, lord knew he had tried, but hatred was just another form of memory so he had done his best to forget the owner of those dark eyes and that darling smile.

When Guy next glanced up the girl had moved away from her perch upon the man's lap. She was once again making her way round the room, making sure every guest was kept drunk and sated in all forms. She was steadily heading towards Guy.

"All right here, m'lord?" She asked, her voice a rasping, dripping, amber honey.

She really was rather beautiful. Guy found himself staring, and not always at her eyes. The woman smiled in a crooked fashion, not minding his stares. She even gave him a look herself--handsome rogue that he was.

The gold coin flashed cheerily in the bright room; a most pleasing sight to the woman--the only pleasure she understood. Guy set the coin upon the table, "Come to my room tonight." It wasn't a question.

The woman picked upon the coin, being sure to lean over against the table to give her admirer a better view of the wares. "Certainly, m'lord." She said silkily as she slipped the coin between her breasts. Not a bad bargain--gold crown and a handsome man--not a bad bargain at all. She slipped away from Guy's table, flashing him lovely gems of smiles as she went.

***

There came three light taps against the door leading into Guy's room. He opened it slowly, his promised whore for the night stood dressed only in a a lacy, white shift. She curtsied deftly and Guy led her inside.

The shift the woman was wearing left nothing to the imagination. Every curve, every supple and soft tease of flesh could be seen. Guy's eyes were already darkening with lust as he watched the woman swish and sway her way inside.

She circled about him, sliding her little hands over the wolf's head clasps of his coat. "Still locked away in these leathers, m'lord?" She laughed huskily, "Let's see if I can make you more comfortable, hm?" With one deft movement of her little fingers she unclasped his coat.

Shrugging off his coat, Guy took the woman in his arms, kissing her lips hungrily. The woman gave a little gasp of surprise at his suddenness, but she quickly became accommodating: opening her mouth to let him taste her. She rubbed up against his already straining lust; giggling like a naive little girl, flicking her tongue ever so slightly inside his mouth. She pulled away coyly as she felt Guy's hands move to her breasts. "Not so fast, my lovely." She teased, playing with fire as she saw a look of displeasure cross his face.

She brought him over to the bed and upon removing his boots, had him lay down upon it. Removing his shirt, she laved at his chest, kissing and licking her way down his stomach to the line of his trousers. She could hear him let out a strangled moan of frustrated pleasure as she wrapped the laces of his trousers about her little finger. Normally she would rather get this whole business over with, but he was a handsome man; with such fine dark hair and steely eyes. Why should she not get a little enjoyment from this as well?

Straddling him, she began to remove her translucent clothing. She smiled boldly, as she felt his eyes upon her skin as inch by inch of it became fully visible. Placing his hands on either side of her legs, Guy let his fingers trail effortlessly along the whore's inner thighs. Occasionally he parted the dark curls concealing her sex. He felt her throb with every stroke. Guy smirked, if she chose to tease him mirthlessly he could be just as cruel with her.

"What is your name?" He asked her. His voice was surprisingly calm in contrast to the raging need steadily escalating throughout his body.

"Abby, m'lord." she said sweetly as she began to tug at the laces of his trousers, while at the same time rubbing her hand against the straining hardness underneath. What an unusual question. None of the men she had been taken to bed with had ever asked her for her name.

Reaching over to the small table beside the bed, Guy held up another gold crown. Abby's eyes followed it. "How much to change your name to Rebecca tonight?" He asked.

Abby let out a ringing laugh, "Missin' your sweetheart, eh?" She said knowingly. Her eyes flicked away from the coin to his prone figure, "Oh," she licked her lips, "an' I bet she's missn' ya too."

"Answer the question, whore!" Guy snarled, holding the coin just out of the woman's reach.

Abby shrugged, eyes twinkling, "For that gold crown ya can call me whatever your heart desires, m'lord."

Guy tossed her the coin and she caught it, kissed it, and tossed it atop the pile of her discarded shift. She smiled sweetly, but it was not the sweetest smile Guy had ever seen; her eyes flashed brilliantly, but they were dull when compared to another's.

"Rebecca, m'lord, at your service."


	17. Misplaced Servant

XVII

Misplaced Servant

Isabella had been unusually quiet as she assisted Rebecca in making up her cot. she said little and gave off the all the suspicious feeling of someone deliberately skirting about an issue. Rebecca wondered if it had something to do with the shouting she had heard between Isabella and Guy. Shame she had shut the door as she worked, or she would have known what the siblings had squabbled over. As it was, Rebecca decided it was best to let Isabella have her sulk and press onward.

Satisfied with her completed task, Rebecca asked if Isabella required any of her services. Isabella asked her to fetch her some water, as it was steadily growing hotter, even in the relative cool of the manor. Rebecca went to the kitchens to fill a goblet with fresh water recently drawn from the well. Upon returning to her mistress's chambers Isabella had her sit beside her. The spent the next few minutes talking--not as servant and mistress, but as two friends. Isabella demanded Rebecca address her by her name and not as 'my lady' or 'mistress.' Isabella was insistent and would not let Rebecca leave until she agreed to do as she was asked.

After much discussion, Rebecca had to press upon Isabella that even though she had been ordered to wait upon her she had other responsibilities to attend to, providing that this was acceptable.

"I have nothing to say against it." Isabella shrugged.

"If ya have need o' me, just call." Rebecca said as she made her way over towards the door.

"That I will be sure to do...oh, Becca!" Isabella cried suddenly, as if struck by some important information she had failed to give to her friend earlier.

The sudden distressed tone caused Rebecca to turn back around. "Do be wary when it comes to my brother."

Rebecca laughed, "I believe I know how t' deal with him after all these years."

"Even so, he is not to be trusted, no matter what your heart tells you." Isabella saw Rebecca flinch slightly, "Take care."

Rebecca sighed, drumming her fingers on the door, "Ya an' your brother," she shook her head, recalling Guy's warnings for her to be cautious around Isabella, "ya need t' trust one another again. I do take care; I promise ya that Isabella."

"You know I only say this because I would hate for you to get hurt." Isabella replied.

A chill laced up Rebecca's spine. Isabella had been very forthcoming when it came to warnings of how best to deal with Guy. First it was the fact that she had felt betrayed by him as a child when he had married her off to a monster of a husband, then it was that she had heard him say that he would see Rebecca exiled off his lands as soon as he was able to find an excuse to do so. Such warnings confused her and this worry for her safety did nothing to assuage her mounting doubts. Guy had been nothing but civil to her these past few weeks, ever since his recent injury. At any other time she would have been turning cartwheels about the whole of Locksley and now all she could do was smile dully and pray that the heaviness in her heart would quickly leave her be. She knew Isabella wanted to protect her, but Rebecca wished she would stop poisoning her head with suspicions.

"Is that all, Isabella?" Rebecca asked respectfully.

Isabella nodded and Rebecca took her leave. She made her way down the staircase, pausing upon the last step as she thought she saw Guy in the small foyer just beyond the main hall of the manor. Curious, she walked over to the private room and stood in the open and doorless entrance. Guy appeared deep in thought. He was leaning against the mantel above the cold and unlit hearth. An odd tag hung in his hands as he clutched the strap tightly, letting the engraved tag swing back and forth like a pendulum marking the time.

Rebecca cleared her throat and knocked upon the wall, announcing her presence. "Master?" She said softly, smiling a little as he turned to face her, "Forgive me if I'm disturbing ya, but are ya well? Do ya need me to get ya anything?"

Guy eyed her strangely. He could not have looked at her more oddly than if she had spoken to him in some foreign tongue. He said nothing to her, and he did not move from his position against the mantel. Rebecca fidgeted. Was he also upset over his argument with his sister. Really; one day she was going to scheme up some elaborate plan to get these two to sit down together and have a proper talk, this constant distrust and riled temper could not be allowed to continue for much longer.

Rebecca apologized for her intrusion again, "I'll just leave ya be, then..." She said as she backed her way out of the room.

"Wait." The voice which answered her was rough and unfeeling. Rebecca turned around and saw that Guy was gesturing for her to come back. She did so, but with a growing feeling of trepidation. "Sit." He commanded, pointing to a chair beside the fireplace.

Confused, but knowing better than to discuss the point, Rebecca sat down quietly. Guy remained standing over her. "I want you to know that it is only because of our former friendship that I am speaking with you now." He said each word with deliberate force, as if the fact that he even had to speak such words was a most vile act.

"Former friendship?" Rebecca echoed dully. What was he driving at, and why did he hold the look of betrayal in his eyes? What had happened?

Guy forced himself to look away from her, "For some time now I have had cause to...question your loyalty to me." He held up his hand to stop the onslaught of panicked shouts, "I denied such accusations against you. You have always been my most trustworthy servant and...my friend. So I am going to give you a chance to defend yourself." He showed her the tag he had been holding in his hands, "Tell me how this came to be among your personal items."

Rebecca looked at the tag, her brow knitted as she tried to place where she had seen it before. "This...this isn't mine." She stammered she inwardly screamed as she saw the shift in Guy's expression, his eyes growing darker with increasing wrath. "It isn't...I...I know I've seen something like it before, but...I can't remember..."

"This," Guy growled, shoving the tag closer to Rebecca, "Is the tag worn by Robin Hood and his gang and it was found with your things!"

"What?!" Rebecca's face drained of all colour, "But...I--"

"I imagine he only gives this out to those he absolutely trusts as members of his gang...or as close spies." Guy said.

"But it's not mine!" Rebecca cried, feeling the world spin before her eyes, "There's been a mistake!"

"You can have no knowledge of how much I want that to be true." Guy sighed and Rebecca could hear the longing in his voice.

"It is the truth!"

"Becca, do not lie to me!" Guy shouted.

"I would never betray ya!" Rebecca shouted back, leaping boldly to her feet. "Master, please...this, this is nonsense. Ya know I would never lie t' ya. How could ya accuse me o' such crimes like this?"

"Accuse? Becca, with such evidence against you I could have dragged you to the village square and run my sword through you without so much as telling you why I was executing you." Guy spat. He wasn't certain if it was anger he felt towards her, or fear that he could not be sure if Rebecca really was telling him the truth. From the look of horror in her eyes, Guy could easily believe that there had been a mistake. Rebecca had been a constant in his life. It did seem absurd that of all the people closest to him he should doubt her.

"Ya could kill me so easily?" Rebecca said quietly. Guy lowered his head, no of course he couldn't. The thought of killing Rebecca was repulsive, the fact that he was even having this conversation with her cut him deeply and he was certain that it hurt Rebecca even more.

"The tag is not mine." Rebecca said, breathing in deeply, her voice ragged with restrained emotion, "There's been a mistake. I don't know who has been putting thoughts in your head that I was disloyal t'ya, but they are lying t'ya! I have never betrayed ya t' Robin Hood. I have never spied for him or his gang. I would rather die. I've never told ya lies, or played ya false. I care for ya too much t' hurt ya in such a way!"

Hadn't he heard such words before? Guy's stare hardened at the pleading words from his servant. Marian had said such soothing things to him. That she had only betrayed him once and again because she had tried to do what was right. That hurting him had been an unintentional evil. That she cared for him; truly, no matter what she had done. Of course, it had all been lies. She had stood before him trembling and with the same hurtful and desperate expression Rebecca now wore. He had been weak then and listened to the feeble demands of his heart instead of the cool logic of his mind. How he had writhed against himself as he had tried to force himself to let go of Marian and send her to the hang man for her crimes as the Nightwatchman. He should have done it, it would have spared his soul for Marian's final and decisive strike.

He tried to think back. Recalling little instances here and there where Rebecca should had proven a traitor to him. Robin Hood had managed to break into the Castle recently and humiliate the Prince and that had been the same day he had brought Rebecca to the Castle. Coincidence? Or how attentive she had been towards him since his injury? How she was constantly asking if he was well if something was the matter....cues to get him to rely on her? To trust her enough to tell her secrets without him knowing? All possible and at the same time almost impossible.

"Master, you have t' believe me." Rebecca said softly as she became disheartened at Guy's prolonged silence. Her lower lip trembled as a tear fell down her cheek. "Ya know me..."

"Do I? I do not forget that for nearly eleven years Robin was your master as well." Guy said.

That hurt her. He could clearly see the wounded expression in her eyes. "Robin was never my master." Rebecca whispered. "An' that tag is not mine!"

"Still you persist with these lies?! It was found with your things! Clearly it is yours!" Guy shouted.

"No!" She wailed, "I swear, master...it isn't mine!"

"Fine." Guy shrugged, "Let us suppose you aren't lying to me. Even so," Guy sighed, "it is too much of a risk to trust you." He could not open himself up to be cut down so easily again. Rebecca may be telling him the truth, but he could never trust her again even if she was, not after this. He turned away from her, finding it unbearable to look into her tear-filled eyes. "There is only one thing I can do."

"Master..." Rebecca seemed to guess at what he might say. The panic in her voice nearly silenced him.

"You must leave Locksely."

"_No!"_

Guy winced, "You are no longer my servant...you can no longer be permitted to stay within the grounds of Locksley. Take whatever you own and leave; I want you gone before nightfall." He marched swiftly from the room.

He should have expected Rebecca to follow, but he did not expect to hear such a keening cry emerge from her lips. It was as if she had been stabbed, the pain was so prominent in her voice. She ran to him, heedless of propriety. "Do not do this!" She begged.

"I have no choice." Guy admitted. Rebecca ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes darting about in desperation. She looked like a lost child; a ship without direction. Tears were pouring from her eyes. The accusation and sentence had been thrown upon her so quickly she must still be trying to work out what she had done to deserve this. She looked so helpless that, for a moment, Guy wished he could retract all he had said to her, but he could not. He would regret it if he did. There was no way to prove her innocence.

Rebecca fell to her knees, grabbing Guy by the ankle of his boots to stop him from walking away from her. "Guy!" She cried, "Guy, I beg ya! Please...I've done nothing wrong! Don't send me away!"

Her cries were gathering the attention of the other servants and soon there were bystanders watching the spectacle curiously. Guy pulled out of Rebecca's feeble grasp. "This display is pathetic." He hissed. "Any other master would have had you killed immediately for even the slightest suspicion of betrayal. I am giving you your life and I am giving you your freedom as a reward...."

"But I have no where t' go." Rebecca cried, "You're all I have! Guy! The tag is not mine! Punish me if ya think I have done wrong, but do not send me away!"

"I can not afford to be wrong in my judgement." Guy said coldly, "Becca, it is best if you leave."

"No--"

"That is my final order!" Guy roared, "There is nothing more to be discussed." He had to get away. Rebecca's cries were intolerable. If his resolved weakened he would succumb and ignore his doubts against her if only to stop her from crying. He hurried as far away as he could, but everywhere inside the manor he could hear Rebecca crying and screaming for him. He burst out the door leading out into the grounds beyond the manor.

He was still holding the tag. He took one look at it and flung it from him, letting out a cry of frustration and rage. Rebecca may have been innocent or she may have been guilty. He would never know. He couldn't allow himself to trust enough to try. After today Rebecca would be gone. He had taken for granted her presence in Locksley. Now with this ugly shadow of doubt hanging over her she would forever be tainted. He had lost her. He hadn't realized that she had been all he had truly had as well.

**_1191_**

Guy had been in a most disagreeable mood ever since he had finally emerged from his quarantined state nearly three days ago. The entire household was on edge. No one could ascertain why their master should awake more angry at his mere existence than relieved to be alive at all. He had been sick and kept away from the rest of the world for nearly three months. For a man to return from so long in a fevered state could be seen as nothing short of a miracle. Yet, from the way Guy went about it, he seemed to feel he had been cursed.

Guy came riding into Locksley late that evening, his temper at an all time high. The Sheriff seemed to glean a fair amount of delight in taunting him about his exploits in the Holy Land, and the failure he had proved. If he had to suffer through another recount of his failings he would burn the entire cursed shire to the ground just to spite the man who had send him on the impossible mission in the first place. It was not his fault that one soldier had still had the strength to fight him. His plan had worked brilliantly, but what did it matter? It had been poorly executed. Three months wasted.

A loud crash resounded in the entrance hall and Guy heard the muttered curses of one of his servants. A clay pitcher had dropped and shattered in half upon the floor. Rebecca was kneeling down to gather the pieces up, while her companion stood above her, hands on her hips. "That's the third thing you've broken today!" She exclaimed, "If you aren't fit to work today, Rebecca, you should rest. Everyone's been saying so!"

"I'm fine." Rebecca muttered, sniffling. "G-g-go an' fetch a b-b-broom."

Muttering to herself, the other maid went off to fetch a broom to help clean up the mess. Guy would have walked away from the scene without a second thought if Rebecca hadn't begun to cry. She sat upon the floor staring down at the broken pitcher, sobbing quietly as if the very end of the world had come.

"It's just a pitcher." Guy remarked, alerting Rebecca to his presence. She looked up at him like a deer starting at a hunter's appearance, "You're not going to get thrown out of Locksley for breaking a pitcher. Stop snivelling over it."

"Sorry, master." Rebecca said quietly as she gathered up the broken pitcher.

"Go and fetch your mother." Guy suggested, "She's always been good at mending broken wares."

"Y-y-yes, master. I'll...I'll see t-t-to that!" Rebecca burst into tears once more as she ran from the hallway.

Guy was a bit stunned at the display. Rebecca wasn't normally so weepy eyed over the common accident of breaking a piece of pottery. Usually she was the steady-handed one with the broom and a sharp word over the incident. Why had she broken just as easily as the pitcher?

The other servant returned wielding a broom. She let out an exasperated sigh as she realized her companion had already cleaned up the mess and fled the scene. "You," Guy barked, causing the servant to nearly drop her broom in surprise, "What was wrong with the girl?"

"Master, thought you knew." The servant said quizzically, "Her mother, old Gemma, died not but a few days ago."

"Died?" This broke through his sullen mood. He couldn't have heard the woman right.

The maid nodded, "Everyone knew she was ailing for a time. Fever came an' took her."

"Why wasn't I informed that one of my servants had died?" Guy shouted at the unfortunate maid.

"We...we all thought that Rebecca had..."

He did not wait for the maid to finish her statement, for he stormed past her, following the direction Rebecca had taken. She could not have gotten very far. He paused as he turned a corner, she was no where to be seen and there were no doorways leading out towards the outside grounds. Standing in silence for a moment, he was finally able to hear the tiny sobs echoing as if coming from the very walls. He walked stealthily, following the sound. Eventually he came upon a broom closet with it's door slightly ajar. He pushed it open, the door swung in, creaking on its hinges.

Rebecca jumped, "Master!" She wiped frantically at her eyes and made a show of searching through the closet, "I was just l-l-looking for...I thought that..."

"Becca, why didn't you tell me?" Guy asked her quietly.

Rebecca looked at him shamefacedly, "Y-y-ya had just gotten well, master." She choked, "I...I didn't want t' tell ya just yet."

Guilt flooded him for a moment. Rebecca had kept her mother's death a secret from him because she had thought his own health had been more important, but he had not been sick. He had not been there at all. "You should have told me." He reprimanded.

"Couldn't..." She said, shaking.

He sighed, wondering now what to do with this useless wreck of a woman. He was not without complete sympathy. Gemma Tanner had helped raise him from a boy and he was not likely to ever forget that, no matter how much he had distanced himself from her family. "Come out of here." He ordered, stepping back to let Rebecca through.

The bedraggled woman emerged from the dark closet, her dark hair was dishevelled and falling out from it's ties. Her eyes were red and puffy and her face was grimy with tear stains. Guy stared at her. There was a time when seeing her so miserable would have wrung something other than pity from him. "Get yourself to the servant's quarters." He said, "You shouldn't be working."

"Thank ya, master, but I'd rather not...better t' have something t' do..." Rebecca said.

Guy nodded silently to her, and for a moment Rebecca thought that he would leave her to her own devices, but he did not move away. When news of her father's death had been brought back by Guy's father, Guy had been with her to comfort her. Now he was so distant Rebecca wondered if he was truly the same man. If she had been a bolder woman she might have spoken out. She might have begged for him to be a friend to her for just a moment.

"Should go..." She muttered, pressing her hand against the wall to afford her self some control over her shaking legs. Her strength was rapidly leaving her and she had not even noticed immediately when her legs had finally given way; there was only the strange and heavy feeling of falling.

A hand about her waist stopped her descent. She turned about and wrapped her arms around Guy. She was perfectly aware such an action would be unwanted, but she hardly cared."She shouldn't have died like that. I told her she needed t' rest...but...she wouldn't listen. She was...all I had." Her words came out in choked gasps as she tried to speak through the wall of her tears. "What...what d-d-do I do now, master?" She whispered.

Guy placed one arm about Rebecca, awkwardly; letting her cry against him. Rebecca held tight against him. He was warm, and even though his own hold about her was reluctant at best, there could be no better comfort. She closed her eyes, her head pressed against his chest. Eventually her tears stopped. Once she could gain proper control of herself, she pulled away from Guy. "Forgive me..." She whispered.

"Where did you bury her?" Guy asked her.

"Next to my father..."

This surprised Guy, although nothing would have proven more logically; "In Gisborne?"

Rebecca nodded, "She married my father there. She gave birth to me there. That was her home. Thornton and I took her to the grounds near where Gisborne manor used t' be an'...I...I think she'd have been happy...." She bit her lip. "Why do ya ask, master?"

Because he would undoubtedly make his way over to Gemma's grave later, although he would not say this to Rebecca. He was not Gemma's kin, Rebecca was her daughter and she had every right to cry and grieve. He had none. He remembered the promise he had made her just a few short months ago. She had given him protection over the one thing she possessed: her daughter. So what was he to do? He couldn't tell Rebecca this. If he admitted he had had any knowledge of how grave Gemma's health had been she would never forgive him. Funny, how that should matter on some small scale.

"Get some rest, Becca." Guy said, "That's an order. I can't afford to have you falling ill as well."

The coldness of his tone caused her to lower her head. "Ya intend t' keep me on, then?" She asked quietly.

"Yes." He grunted, "Don't bother me with these ridiculous questions."

Rebecca could not help, but smile a little. There was fine line when Guy would prove harsh out of sheer cruelty and when he would purposefully mask his feelings. This code was not a difficult one. She had confronted him with unexpected emotion and, not knowing how to handle the onslaught, he had retreated in the only way he knew how.

"Master..." She raised her voice again as he turned to leave her, "Thank ya." She said quietly, consenting to him leaving her while all the while silently praying he would see how much she needed him now and return to her.

He nodded to her. He hadn't done anything to be worthy of thanks. He knew that nothing he could do or say would lessen Rebecca's grief. There is nothing that can be done to lessen a child's grief over their parents, no matter how old that child might be. No one could have possibly understood this better than Guy. He could hear Rebecca crying lightly even as they both walked away from one another, down opposite ends of the same hall. She would do her best to conceal most of her sorrow from him and from the servants, but it was sapping the energy from her. She should have told him sooner...but it did not matter. He would keep his promise to Gemma, he need not think anymore on the deal he had struck with her. Now there were things to be set in order, and a grave to visit.

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**A/N: So how is Izzy going to react to this turn of events, hm? And how is Becca going to come out of all this double dealing? Also, one more wicked little twist is still to come. You think separating Guy and Becca is the worst I can do? You haven't seen the half of it. **

**Next chapter will be up soon!  
**


	18. Unintentional Evils

**Apologies for the long delay. I just recently moved back into my dorm, so things have been a little hectic. I managed to steal a little time away from my classwork to update this story and yes, I will still be updating it as best I can throughout the semester. :) Do enjoy!

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XVIII

Unintentional Evils

She lay upon the floor sobbing, her face pressing against the unyielding and rough wooden floorboards. She lay like a lame and submissive dog, of no more use to its owner. She could hear the whispers of the other servants standing around and gawking at the display before them. What had happened? The master had never abused Rebecca so violently and so publicly before. No one ever thought that he would dare to throw her from the manor. This was different. Rebecca hadn't transgressed in her duties, she had been proven a traitor. A traitor? They whispered, Rebecca? She was the master's pet. She condemned any who sought to do him harm. Rebecca? A traitor? It couldn't be.

She lifted her head off of the floor and remained sitting upon her knees. She had stopped screaming for the master. Some of the servants had been shocked at how casually she had used his name to cry out to him. Who did she think she was? Not even the oldest servants dared to call their master by his name. Perhaps it was not so bad an idea to throw her from the manor. She had been thinking she was a step above the other servants lately. It was somewhat satisfying to see her treated like the lowest scullery girl; dispensable.

The whispers must have eventually reached Rebecca's ears for she soon turned to face the small crowd. "Which one o' ya was it?" She croaked out, her voice raw from screaming. Her voice silenced the growing chatter.

She rose to her feet, approaching them like a creature of the dead struggling to walk on reanimated limbs. "Well? Who was it? I know one o' ya put that filthy outlaw's tag with my things...who was it?"

The few backed away from her. "No one touched your things." Someone said.

"_I know one of ya did it!" _She screamed, "Just...just go an' tell the master. Tell him I've done nothing wrong! Ya got what ya wanted right? Please don't let him send me away..."

No one volunteered to step forward. "Jenny?" Rebecca asked approaching the girl, but she backed away, "Tess?" The other girl turned away from her. "Thornton?" She looked to the elderly servant, but he only gave her a pitying look. What did she expect him to do for her? Once Gisborne gave an order only those with a death wish chose to defy it.

"Ya won't help me?" Rebecca realized with an overwhelming sense of betrayal. "You'll let him throw me from Locksley?" She looked about at the faces of the other servants.

There was nothing they could do; and it wasn't as if Rebecca had ever been truly one of their own. She had always kept herself apart from the rest. She was the one that had treated Locksley like a prison. Everyone knew that she wasn't asking to be kept in Locksley, she was asking to be kept with Guy. No one was going to help a woman who had made herself an outcast among people who would have been willing friends.

"Cowards!" Rebecca shouted, "Ya know I'm innocent! Ya know I couldn't turn a traitor on anyone! Why did ya just stand there? Why didn't ya say anything! Gutless, spineless..." They were walking away, a few of the younger girls looked back with sympathy in their eyes. The rest tried to drown her out. "Go t' hell!" She screamed at them.

"What is going on down there?!" Isabella's voice snapped through the fiery cries. She could see Rebecca standing alone in the hall as the other servants left her. She was clutching at the sides of her linen dress. Locks of her hair were falling down about her face as they came undone from their ribbon. For all of the sorrow apparent in the figure of the woman she emanated such a hellish fury. One could feel the heat of her anger sear at the skin.

Rebecca tried to curtsy as Isabella approached her. She quivered as she tried to formulate words. "My lady," she swallowed hard, her throat going dry. She tried to speak, but all she could manage was a few almost unintelligible gasps, "'Fraid I can't...won't be able...have t'...leave."

Isabella practically flew down the steps to the distressed woman's side. She placed an arm about Rebecca's shoulders, "Come back upstairs, Becca." she whispered, tilting her head up towards the retreated servants, "Don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry."

Rebecca nodded and allowed Isabella to lead her up the steps and back into her room. After closing the door she sat Rebecca down upon the bed. "What happened." She asked, sitting beside her and offering her a kerchief to dry her eyes with.

Rebecca took the kerchief, but did not dry her eyes with it. She clutched it in her shaking hand and brought it down to her lap. She toyed with a corner of it, wringing it around and around her fingers before unwinding it and beginning the process all over again. "He...let me go..." She hiccuped.

"What? Who did?"

"Guy." With trembling breath Rebecca explained that she had been called to speak to her master, that he had found an outlaw's tag among her belongings, that he had branded her as a traitor and that she must leave Locksley. Isabella listened with calm eyes, often making gasps of horror and outrage, or taking the woman in a comforting embrace. Rebecca sat as stiff and as unmoving as a heartless block of stone. Words came tumbling from her mouth, but she felt numb to her own voice. Was she really speaking, or was she dreaming? She suddenly felt so tired she could not be sure.

"I tried to warn you." Isabella shook her head as if blaming her self, "I _knew_ he would do something like this, but I never thought that he...I should have done something..."

This declaration shocked Rebecca, she looked at Isabella curiously, "'S not your fault..." She said. "B-b-but ya believe me? Ya believe that the tag's not mine?"

"Of course I do! Utterly ridiculous to think you would ever try to hurt my brother."

"Then ya will speak t' him?!" Rebecca clutched at Isabella's shoulders, "Ya will tell him I'm innocent.? You're his sister, he'll believe ya."

"Oh, Becca, I would if I did not think Guy had planned this entire act." Isabella said mournfully.

Rebecca dropped her arms, sliding away from Isabella, "Why would ya say that?"

"Because he told me he had been wanting to rid himself of you...and for some time he has been acting very suspicious. He spent his time so often with you I knew he must be trying to get to you...I just couldn't be sure. I never thought he would sink so low as to brand you a traitor." Isabella said quickly.

"Why would ya say such things?" Rebecca's voice rose as she leapt to her feet, backing away from Isabella in horror. "Guy would never do that. It was one o' the servants. He...he was tricked. He...he wouldn't..."

"If he could sell his own sister off to a man who made her life into a living hell all for a couple of coins...what makes you think he wouldn't fake a simple betrayal." Isabella said.

Rebecca stood staring wildly at Isabella. She shook her head. She couldn't swallow this news. This was something she could never believe. Guy would never do such a thing. Or could he? For years he had cast her aside, only using her when he had a need of her. It had been strange that lately he had sought her out so frequently and had had such a want of her company. She had thought that maybe he had realized certain feelings for her. She had been such a fool.

Isabella walked over to her, "My poor friend," she sighed heavily, "You see how he has betrayed us? I am only sorry that we could not have been reunited sooner. I would have taken you far away from him. Do not worry, I will not let him send you away. From now on I will take responsibility for you. You will be my servant in name only. Together we could take him down."

"No..." Rebecca whispered, "No, I don't want to hurt him."

"But he has hurt you. Without care and without remorse." Isabella urged, "You should not have a care for him."

"He...he has been betrayed before." Rebecca said, "I need t' show him I never did. I don't need t' turn against him, Isabella. I can't."

Lord, she was pathetic. Isabella fumed quietly behind compassionate eyes. She could not lose her temper now. Rebecca was still a wild card. She had to be taken away from Guy. If she could not turn her away now, then any planning she had to destroy him would be wasted, because Rebecca would die for his undeserving soul. She wanted such loyalty to be turned towards her own cause. "I understand," she said soothingly, "but one day you will have to make a choice. My brother has abandoned you. I would never do such a thing."

Rebecca clutched at Isabella's hand, "Neither would I." she turned to look at her, tears were still falling from her dark eyes, but feeble resolve shone through. "Your brother can do what he wants with me, lord knows...he...he can't do much worse, but I would never let him hurt ya, Isabella."

Oh, perhaps she was not without hope after all. "Then you will accept my offer? You will let me protect you?"

Rebecca nodded and Isabella grinned. A firm hand upon her arm, stayed Isabella, "I will help ya t' get out o' your brother's an' your husband's clutches. I will do my best t' see ya safe from harm, but mark me Isabella, I will not help ya hurt Guy."

"Let us pray there will never be a need." Isabella said gruffly, a bit more impatient with the woman now that she had practically received the answer she had so waited for.

There was a divide within her that she felt she could not cross. Rebecca stared at the hard-eyed and compassionate woman before her. Isabella had just risked her life to make sure that she would not be abandoned. She did not have to do that and Rebecca could feel nothing but respect and friendship for her, it was all that was holding her broken heart together now. Yet for all of these virtues, Rebecca could not help but feel that she had just made a deal with the devil.

***

"The Prince is not yet here?"

"No, but he is due to arrive any moment. You know what you must do while he is here?"

"Keep out of sight. Listen for any news concerning whose t' be the new Sheriff."

"Good--lord, help me; it is as hot as hell!" Isabella paced from one side of the room to the other, tugging at the collar of her dress in agitation.

"Won't help rushing about as you are." Rebecca commented as she poured out a small cup of water from the pitcher atop the drawers. She handed it to her, "Drink it slowly, water's starting t' get precious."

Isabella downed half of the cup and handed Rebecca the rest, "You drink up too, Becca. Don't give me any excuses, can't afford to have you fainting on me, can I?"

Becca took the cup reluctantly before sipping at it. "Suppose not."

There came a swift knock at the door before the handle was turned and it was opened rudely. Guy stood in the doorway, "The Prince is here. Get yourself downstairs."

Isabella dipped her head, "I was just on my way down, brother. How interesting you should have come up to fetch me." She made her way gracefully towards the hall beyond, but not before pausing to give directions to her maid, "Becca, you will finish straightening out this room, and then I suggest you make yourself useful helping the servants gather up any remaining water supplies."

Rebecca curtsied clumsily in her haste. "Yes, m'lady." She mumbled.

She kept her head down even as Isbella left the room. She could feel Guy's eyes upon her and she could not summon up enough to courage to look her former master in the eye. "Well?" He growled, "Your mistress gave you your orders. Get to them you worthless whore."

Rebecca winced, "I'm not worthless." She whispered under her breath.

"What was that?" Guy snapped.

"I said...I'm not worthless." She raised her head, glaring at him with all the indignity she could manage.

Guy seemed hardly disturbed at this display of courage, "You are if I say you are, now get on with it." He placed a hand upon the knob of the door, pulling it shut behind him.

"You're not my master anymore, I don't have t' take your orders." Rebecca shouted, feeling her heart blister and burn at the hatred Guy was finally showing towards her. Isabella had been right all along. He had always disregarded her. He had always despised her. "Just 'cause ya thought I was worthless doesn't mean I am."

"Take care, Rebecca. I let you remain here at the whim of my sister. I do not forget the traitor you have proven yourself to be even if she has chosen to ignore it." Guy's voice carried with it the sickly gentle undercurrent of restrained violence.

"She has chosen t' see the truth an' accept me. Don't ya dare try t' threaten me or Isabella."

"Or you'll do what?" Guy smirked, "Cry to Robin Hood?"

The pitcher smashed into the wall beside the door. Guy had to pull back away as the pieces of pottery shattered everywhere. The little water that had been residing in the pitcher stained the wooden floor below. Guy stared at the wreckage and then at the quivering, wretched woman who had caused the destruction. He had not been expecting such a retaliation as that.

"I..._hate_ ya." Rebecca said succinctly, but with a stuttering taste of dishonesty. "I should have always hated ya!"

They both stared at one another in bitter silence. The wrath in Guy's eyes fell. He only heard Rebecca's words, he did not bother to search out whether or not they had been true or false. Her hatred did not surprise him, it was the declaration of it; the violent way it had sprung up. What was a surprise was how much it pained him to finally know what had been hiding in her heart. Guy left her without another word, and this was perhaps more jarring to Rebecca than any vengeful action or bitter word could have ever been. The door shut, and like a spell being left, she moved from her frozen position.

She got down on her knees to gather up the remains of the pitcher. Not but three days ago she would never have said such a thing to him. The thought would have turned her stomach, but Guy had proven what he had really thought of her. He had proven how easily disposable she was. Isabella was showing her what she truly deserved, a friend, not the false memory of one. So she would not take back her hateful words, not even to herself. If she did not truly hate Guy yet she would. She would learn to. She was worthless to him, so he would become worthless to her as well.

**_1191_**

"I'm so glad you're here." Rebecca sighed, her voice lilting with tired laughter. Water sponged out between her fingers as she twirled a wet rag round the centre of the plate. She glanced over at the woman drying dishes beside her and the two shared a private smile.

Rebecca handed off the wet plate and selected another plate. "And why is that?" her companion asked.

Rebecca shrugged, "'Cause you're not like the others. Something about ya. You're nice."

The woman giggled as she pushed back a lock of her light brown hair, "Well, thank you. I try to be; not all the time of course." Rebecca let out a little snicker at that.

"Don't really make a lot o' friends." Rebecca admitted bluntly as she handed off the last of the plates.

"Ridiculous." The woman replied, "You've made one just now."

Rebecca smiled, "That means a lot." She said sheepishly, "Ya really don't know."

"I do. I heard how your mum passed on a few weeks ago—sorry! I didn't mean to sound..."

"Nah, don't fret over that." Rebecca said with a wave of her hand, "No harm taken."

"Good. Hate to think that on my first week here I'd already offended someone." The woman laughed, the blush cooling from her cheeks.

"It'd take more than that t' offend me." Rebecca said.

"I'll go and put this away, shall I?" The woman asked.

"I'll help." Rebecca said, taking half of the stack of clean dishes.

"Thanks, Rebecca." The woman said gratefully.

"Anytime, Annie."

***

Guy caught Rebecca by surprise one afternoon as she was coming in from carrying the laundry. He startled both her and her companion, Annie. He smirked, his amusement tangible in the shocked stillness. Rebecca eyed the man warily, a part of her wondering if he had purposefully waited at the back door thinking to catch her off guard. The more rational part of her brain knew this could not be.

"Becca." He said charmingly, his smirk growing into a brief but tempting grin. "How unusual that I should find you here."

"Master." Rebecca said curtly. He was playing games with her again. How often it was that he could transform from the dark and unreachable statue with no heart to speak of, to the taunting and enticing man she was inexplicably attracted to. "Why would it be so unusual?"

"Because," Guy said, blocking the door, "_Usually_ I find you upstairs in my room sweeping away the dust at this time. Imagine my surprise when I discovered you were not there." This last sentence was said with a rippling undercurrent of honeyed darkness that Rebecca felt her arms grow slightly slack and a hot and cold chill race down her spine. Beside her, she could hear Annie let out a small nervous giggle.

"Ya were looking for me, master?" Rebecca asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Not looking, no. Curious as to why you were not at your post, yes." Guy corrected. "Are you purposefully attempting to disobey your master?"

"I'd never do that, master." Rebecca said calmly as she met his gaze, her dark eyes secretly glowing with happiness at the chance to play this game with him. "I have merely been showing the new servant her way about the manor, master."

Guy's gaze immediately switched over to the blushing Annie. "And does this new servant have a name?" He asked darkly.

"Annie, my lord." She said, almost breathless, "Annie Miller."

"And do you find Becca to be a suitable guide around my manor, Annie Miller?" Guy asked in that tone he so often used when he found a naïve and pretty girl he could trick into his bed later.

"I do, my lord." Annie said.

"And with your permission, we can get back t' work, master." Rebecca said hastily.

She was surprised to see that he actually stepped aside to finally let them pass. Rebecca hesitated for just a moment, unsure if she was being dismissed or not. Eventually she decided it was best to leave when she could. She stepped inside, Annie following close behind her. "Becca," The sound of Guy's voice halted her stride immediately. She turned to look back at him, "Since it pleases you to neglect your orders so easily, consider them permanently removed."

"Pardon, master?" What was he playing at? The tone was as low and as serious as ever, but his eyes were still flashing with humour. If he wasn't joking then what was he doing?

"Annie, Rebecca has decided that her work is not worth her time, therefore you can take over for her. After she is done directing you about the manor you may direct her to give you a list of her daily chores."

"Master!" Rebecca exclaimed. He was going too far with this.

"Don't whine, Becca, I'm not banishing you from my services just yet." Guy retorted, diverting his attention from Annie back to her. He glanced to Annie once more, "Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, my lord." Annie said with a thin curtsey, unsure of the proper etiquette for a situation like this.

Guy nodded, "Very well, Becca, see to it." He could see her glaring at him in confusion as he strode roughly passed her.

Annie was all in a flutter. She went immediately to Rebecca's side as they walked. "I...I didn't..." she tried to stammer helplessly, "I would never have wanted to--"

Rebecca shook her head, "Wouldn't fret over it, Annie. The master is one for the games. In a few days time, when he tires o' it he'll give me back my chores. In the meantime, I don't mind the break." She said with a thin and unconvincing laugh.

"Does the master always treat you that way?" Annie asked as the two of them set their burden down.

"Oh no," Rebecca scoffed, "Sometimes he's worse!"

Annie giggled, "He's very handsome." She pointed out slyly, nudging her friend lightly in the ribs.

"The other maids think so too." Rebecca grunted.

"D'you fancy him? You must do; the way you two talk to one another."

"Don't be silly, Annie." Rebecca said.

Annie sighed, "Well, I could take a liking to him. Maybe he's not as bad as everyone thinks."

"Annie, can I give ya some sound advice?" Rebecca said curtly. Seeing Annie nod her head she went on, "Keep your heart about ya. The master'll may play the part o' a lover, but we're servants, Annie, he'll never love the likes o' us."

"Well, he has yet to know this servant." Annie said with a blush growing on her cheeks and her eyes sparkling.

"Just be wary. I tell ya this 'cause I think o' ya as a friend." Rebecca warned, knowing the signs of a woman about to let a fancy run away with her.

"I'll be wary, Rebecca." Annie said half-heartedly in her distraction.

"Ya promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

**A/N: I'm fairly certain we all remember who Annie is? Thought it would be interesting to throw her in the mix. **

**Be prepared, the next few chapters will throw you all for a major curve. If you manage to guess the twist I'll be very impressed with your sleuthing skills.  
**

* * *


	19. The Broken Cross

**Long chapter ahoy! I really did try my best to edit it down.

* * *

**

XIX

The Broken Cross

The chaotic week seemed to spin past Rebecca. It seemed as if, almost overnight, the entire shire had been turned upside down. First it was the mysterious disappearance of the Sheriff, next it was the suspicious absence of their former lord and master, Guy of Gisborne. It was as if he had just vanished. Lady Isabella offered little explanation for the suddenness of his absence. Only that he had fallen from the Prince's favour and had made good of his escape. Far from seeming distressed over this news, Isabella had seemed remarkably joyful and had announced that she would be the lady of the manor. Many of the villagers were uncertain of the lady, but others were equally ready to have a new and possibly fairer leader. Isabella quickly proved herself to be a just and kind mistress. Within a day she had won over most of the villagers trust by partitioning out extra rations of food from her own kitchens. She gave the villagers a day of rest, stating that she would like to visit each of them to get to know them better. This was all the excuse the people needed to give Isabella a chance. Already she was proving to be of far better and different stock then her demonic brother.

Rebecca tried desperately not to worry. At all times she could feel her heart pounding within her chest, so hard she thought it might burst open at the very mention of Guy's name. He was missing; possibly an outlaw. She should be out in Sherwood searching the woods for him, not lounging about in Locksley practically a free woman. Yet, Isabella had convinced her to forget him and lord knew she was trying, but it was agonizing to want to forget and to fear all at the same time. It would be better if she knew that Guy was safe, at least then she could move on and not wonder if he was cold or starving or hurt. She kept these worries to herself; however, knowing that if she ever voiced them aloud Isabella was likely to ban her from the manor.

Far from breathing a sigh of relief with the rest of the village, Rebecca was waiting on tenterhooks. Isabella had promised her freedom, money, and a position in this new Nottingham she had such plans on building. So far, nothing had come of the aid she had provided. Isabella kept hinting that very shortly she would be rewarded, and while Rebecca had not helped Isabella for the sake of monetary gain, she could not but think of the benefit it would be.

Yet, Isabella was not entirely content with just taking control of Locksley. She had been setting her sights on becoming the new Sheriff of Nottingham. Rebecca had been sceptical of the idea. There had never been a woman in such a position of power before. She should be grateful she was allowed to remain Lady of Locksely unchallenged. Rebecca should have guessed that this would never be enough for her. She was growing rather afraid of her new mistress's ambitions.

That evening her fears were doubly justified, for Isabella returned to Locksley in a high state of dudgeon. "Isabella, is something the matter?" Rebecca asked she removed her riding cloak. Isabella's face was a mask of dark secrets and her eyes were burning with indignation.

"Is something the matter? Is that all you can say?" Isabella snapped.

"Well...I..."

"It is Prince John. The Prince and all of his blood sucking little sycophants. All crowded around him asking for this county or that shire or this castle...and none with the brains to rule any of it."

"I don't think I understand your meaning...."

"Am I not a capable and intelligent woman, Becca?" Isabella asked.

"Of course ya are. No one's said otherwise that I can tell. What--"

"Then should I not have as good a claim as any to become the new Sheriff of Nottingham?" Isabella shouted causing Rebecca to jump.

"But...forgive me, Isabella, ya are a woman. An' no lady has ever been Sheriff before. Ya can't really think it likely the Prince would choose ya?"

"But he will choose me." Isabella said, picking up a candelabra from the table before her, "I know I have made a few poor connections in my time here, but soon he will realize who is real allies are and he will come begging me to take up the position. He thinks this Lord Sheridan is his greatest friend. The man is a great imbecile."

Rebecca followed her lady, holding her own candle. "Sheridan?" She asked.

"Royal Keeper of the Keys, and a supposed loyal friend of the Prince." Isabella explained to an astonished Rebecca.

"And ya think the Prince means to chose this man over ya?" Rebecca asked.

"I think he will, but I intend to make sure he does not." Isabella laughed as the two of them entered into the foyer. "I mean what does Sheridan know about Nottingham anyway?" She said snidely as she placed the candelabra atop one of the tables. Rebecca quietly shut the door behind her, with a small smile. "Stupid old fool." Isabella muttered.

Rebecca was about to speak when another voice caught her completely by surprise. "Hello, sister."

Guy of Gisborne emerged from the shadows of the room like a wraith of darkness. Isabella was startled only for a moment before she attacked. Rebecca flew backwards, clinging to the wooden pillar as she watched the two siblings fight. Guy had unsheathed his sword and seemed hellbound to slay his sister where she stood.

"Guy, please...please just wait!" Isabella pleaded as she tried desperately to evade his attacks.

"What for you to betray me again?" He accused, the acid of his hate was not what frightened Isabella, it was the reality of the cold steel he swung at her.

"You got what you deserved!" Isabella hissed like a viper before she was grabbed by the hair and flung up against the wall. Rebecca let out a slight yelp of horror at the sight.

"And you," Guy said holding his sword up against Isabella's throat, "will get what you deserve."

Rebecca closed her eyes. He was going to kill her. She could not watch him murder his own sister. The candle holder fell from her hands and she covered her ears with her hands. She pressed her head against the pillar. He was going to kill Isabella and she had no doubt he would kill her next for aiding her. She could hear her own blood roar, as she pressed her hands to her ears, but she did not hear any screams or cries for mercy. Very slowly she opened her eyes. Spots of light danced before her line of sight as her eyes cleared. Isabella was still alive, and her brother was still standing over her, sword pressed to her throat...but so far it appeared he had not hurt her. She could see that they were talking, and very carefully she let her arms drop back down to her sides as her breathing returned to a normal rattle in her heaving chest.

"...but for that you need me alive. Kill me and you kill your last chance back with the new king. Let me live and we'll both get what we want." Isabella's voice was surprisingly calm in the face of her would be murderer.

The sword lowered as Guy took a step back away from his sister. Isabella raised a hand to her throat as if to make sure that her head was still firmly attached to her shoulders. "Do we have a deal?" She asked.

Guy nodded, sheathing his sword. The murder had not yet left his eyes and Isabella must have noticed it. "You should rest then...and we can talk more in the morning. Becca," she said a bit unsteadily for once as she walked over to the cowering servant. She took her arm, drawing her out of her hiding spot, "show my brother to a suitable room."

The look of pure hatred which, up until now had been reserved for Isabella was now directed straight at Rebecca. She trembled at the sight of it. She tried to formulate words, but her mouth made no effort to accommodate her. In her nervous state she nearly left the room without a candle to guide her. Doubling back she picked up her fallen candle-holder and relit the candle. She led her former master from the foyer out into the shadowy hall beyond. He did not speak to her, but he followed. Rebecca felt his eyes burning into the back of her head. She dared not turn around, but she feared she would find a knife in her back if she did not glance behind her occasionally. She placed a sheen of ice around herself. She would not concern herself with how much he hated her. He had brought it all on himself. She cared not. He had let her go and she was drowning, but she would learn. She cared not.

***

While this ice covering her heart was still half frozen Rebecca had assisted Isabella that morning. Like an automaton she followed her; going back into the servant's quarters to collect the little box that contained all the medicines that she and her mother had so diligently kept organized and accessible. Perhaps Isabella had not been lying to safe her life when she told Guy she wanted to change things. Rebecca left both brother and sister alone thinking this hopeful thought, but that was before she heard the crash.

Turning on her heels she flew back downstairs, thinking the two siblings were fighting again. What she saw; however, was far from that. Guy was laying slumped over the table and Isabella was holding one of the bottles from the medicine box. Rebecca stared, mouth agape.

"Concentrated Valerian root. Enough to knock out a horse. Now, I doubt Lord Sheridan would have thought of that one." Isabella chuckled.

"What did ya do?!" Rebecca squeaked, ashamed that her voice had grown so thin and wavering.

Isabella turned to look up at her servant. "Ah, Becca, good...help me get him upstairs so I can secure him until the Prince arrives."

"Isabella!" Rebecca made her way down the rest of the staircase. She was blocked from getting to Guy, "What did ya do t' him?"

"Stop whining." Isabella sighed, "He's fine. Your precious Guy is unhurt."

"Ya poisoned him. Ya didn't have t' do that." Rebecca said.

"Yes I did. He is going to my gift to the Prince and my way back into his good graces." Isabella explained haughtily, "Now help me get him upstairs and tied down so he can be handed over to the Prince's soldiers."

"No." Rebecca said recoiling, horrified. "The Prince'll kill him!"

"That is the point."

"I won't let ya do that, Isabella, Guy's your brother. Ya can't kill your own brother." Rebecca said.

"You will do what I tell you, Becca." Isabella said, shoving Rebecca aside.

"We had a deal! If I helped ya, ya said ya wouldn't hurt him!" Rebecca cried.

"Oh, Becca," Isabella sighed, cupping Rebecca's face in her hand, "I lied." And then she laughed, cold and icy enough to melt Rebecca's own prejudices and the frost she had wrapped about her own heart. "It's time you made a choice, Becca. Guy will be executed and I will be made Sheriff of Nottingham. You can die with him or you can help me. I promise you, your loyalty will be rewarded. On that I am not lying."

Rebecca stood aghast, heart pounding in her chest. She looked to the wild and mad eyes of the woman she had trusted; her friend; the child she had once loved and realized the Isabella she knew was dead. She looked over to the prone and helpless figure of Guy. Her choice was made. "Take Guy up t' his room, my lady; I'll fetch the rope."

***

Rebecca stood at the bottom of the staircase, her head leaning against the banister. Isabella had praised her to the highest. She promised her the entire world; anything she could want. She wanted nothing. She didn't even have the energy to look the woman in the eye. There was only one thought racing through her tired mind: she had been betrayed again. She had stood by Isabella because she had led her to believe that she still recalled the friend she once had been to her. Perhaps she did. Perhaps the only reason that she wasn't dead or tied up to a bed upstairs was because Isabella did remember all that she had done and she was reluctant to harm her. Rebecca almost wished she had, instead of tricking her, instead of making her feel wanted only to discover she had been used.

So, hollowed and exhausted she watched as Isabella made her way from Locksley to fetch the Prince. How long did she have until she returned? An hour or two at most? Then that was plenty of time.

Trudging up the stairs she made her way into Guy's former bedchamber. She dared not look at him, knowing that this was her fault. That she had put him there. Glancing out the window with a nervous eye, she made sure that no one was near. Of course no one was coming...she had time. That was when she turned to face him.

She leaned forward, her hand out to carefully untie the first knot binding his wrist to the bedpost. That was when, like a dragon, Guy sprang awake. Launching at a suspected attacker he grabbed Rebecca by the throat. She coughed, her hand suddenly going to pry his fingers off of hers. Startled to see her, he released her. She took a few steps back, coughing and rubbing at her neck. She glared at him, but he could not be blamed for his reaction. He was scared. She went back over to him and he tried to move away from her, but he only managed to strain against his bonds, the gag over his mouth muffled any curses he wanted to shout at her.

She hushed him distractedly as she clumsily latched onto one of the knots and began to untie it. Realizing what she was doing, Guy stopped pulling at the ropes. Rebecca worked silently to undo the first knot. She purposefully tied it falsely tight. It came away with relative ease, as did the second one. With his hands untied Guy sat up and pulled off the gag. Then like a freed wild animal he tackled Rebecca against the wall. She yelped in terror, but his hand covered her mouth as he hissed at her. "What do you think you are doing?"

Moving his hand away to hear her answer she stared at him spitefully, "I am saving your sister from making a terrible mistake."

"What would you care?" He spat. "Hasn't she promised you everything?"

"Nothing I cherished. Nothing I needed." Rebecca snapped.

"This is a trap." Guy concluded. "You will tell me to run and there will be guards down below waiting for me."

She shook her head, "No. Isabella is gone, an' ya don't have much time if ya want to run."

"Why should I trust you, wench?"

"Because I," She said, her voice shaking with rage, "never betrayed ya!" He did not believe her still. She pushed at him, realizing how repulsive his touch was to her. He backed away.

"Now quickly," She said in the silence, "tie me t' the bed an' cover me with the sheets. If Isabella still thinks she has ya here, it'll buy ya some time."

"Becca..."

"Don't!" Rebecca shouted, turning on him. If he was beginning to realize how wrong he had been then that was his misery to admit. She would have nothing more to do with him after this. At least this way she would be assured of his escape and of his safety. She could live the rest of her life knowing that he was alive, but she could never see him again. Her heart could not allow it. She had to learn how to survive on her own now. She sat down upon the bed and pressed her wrists together, stretching them out towards him. "Tie me up. I'm saving your life, and God help me, Guy it'll be the last I ever do for ya."

He was staring at her in confusion. She could see a brief flash of contrition in his eyes and for one second she thought he would apologize to her. That he would ask her to flee with him into the woods and to god knows where. Once she would have gone with him. Now...she hurt too much to trust him again.

He approached her, pulling the rope down from the posts behind her. He took her hands in his and began to bind them. He did not tie the rope tight about her wrists and he held her hands with such surprising gentleness it almost brought tears to Rebecca's eyes. "She will kill you." Guy whispered.

"I am already dead." The words fell from Rebecca's mouth with such swiftness and surety their meaning could not be misunderstood. Guy looked up at her, so now he understood that they were not so very different after all. She stared at him blankly as she saw this recognition of similar pain pass over his features. Oh, how long had she wished to see such a look? How long had she been trying to show him she could have been the confidant and friend he had so sought? But too late, she bewailed silently, too little and too late.

With her bound hands she managed to grasp the cloth beside her which would serve as a gag. She handed it off to Guy and he tied it about her face. She laid herself down upon the bed and he covered her up with the sheet and she knew it would be the last she ever saw of him.

Guy stood back and away from the bed. What had just happened? Rebecca was a traitor, he had found proof enough of that; then why was she risking her life to save his? Guilty conscious? Or had she been telling him the truth all this time? But that thought was unbearable. She was indeed a fool to think he would escape without first taking his revenge upon his sister. He concealed himself behind the door. When she came in he would strike. He lurked in his hiding place for no more than a few passing minutes when he could hear voices coming from below. Isabella had returned with the Prince.

"I wanted to give you a personal coronation gift." Came Isabella's silky and treacherous voice as she sauntered casually back into the room. Guy could see the swish of her dress as it flowed over the wooden floorboards, as smooth as snakeskin. The Prince lagged just a pace or two behind, standing beside the bed unimpressed but petulantly curious. "So you bring me to your bedchamber?" He mocked.

"I give you my brother." Isabella said triumphantly, "Guy of Gisborne!" She pulled back the covers of the bed only to stare down in confusion and stuttering horror at Rebecca. And in that expression of feigned terror in her servant's eyes she knew she had been outsmarted by the fool.

In that moment of disarray Guy made his move. He darted out from behind the door and took hold of the Prince, knife in hand. His sister screamed for the guards, but Guy knew he had the upper hand. "Look what you've done to me Isabella." He spat, "you've betrayed me. Both of you!" With that he threw Prince John against the wall and made his escape.

He ran down the flight of stairs, making sure he was one step ahead of the guards, he knocked over one of the shelves, blocking the path. He tore from the manor like a rat fleeing a legion of cats; down around the back of the manor he ran, tearing into the forest just beyond. He even laughed, feeling the maddening rush of freedom course through his veins for just a moment. It was the most alive he had ever felt in a long time.

Just then he fell. Something had managed to tangle between his legs and he went down to the ground with a dull thud. Whatever he had tripped over he had kicked it with his boot heel upwards so that it landed beside him. As he rose to scramble back to his feet he realized he had been felled by a poorly carved cross. A chill ran down his spine, slowing his movements. He picked up the cross to examine it and realized with a horror unlike any he had ever known that it was his name written on the cross...a marker for a grave. As he made to throw the sickening omen away his eyes got another detail. There inscribed with a faint and almost illegible hand was a far more colder and darker truth upon the cross:

_Guy Tanner_

_1174_

With a cry, Guy let the grave marker fall from his hands, as they were shaking. Recalled to reality with his movement he turned and ran as far away from the little grave as he could. The small and plain cross burning like a brand across his eyes as he fled now from more than the fear of any mortal punishment.

**_Late Winter 1173_**

"Ill again, my girl?" Gemma snapped as she tried to rouse her sleepy eyed daughter from her cot.

Rebecca groaned, she had only just been released from her captive state nearly a month ago and ever since then she had been heavily sick. Rebecca thought she was dying, Gemma thought she was forcing her own illness upon herself, but whatever the cause, it could not be questioned that the girl was looking pale and sickly.

As Rebecca rolled over her first instinct was to grab the bucket which she kept at the side of her bed, just in case she felt the need to be ill again, but thankful there was no pressing need. She pushed the covers off of her and swung her legs over the side of the cot. She shook her head, although her hair was matted with sweat and her eyes were bleary and red. "M'fine." She muttered.

Gemma placed a hand upon her forehead, her face a line of a frown. "No fever. I'd say that counts for something. Right then, my girl, up ya get an' make yourself useful 'round here. An' no sneaking off back to bed in the middle o' the afternoon. Ya ain't the Lady o' this manor. Chores t' be done."

Shivering with the chill of the deep winter air, Rebecca grabbed her work dress to slip on over her white shift. This hardly did anything to keep out the cold, but Gemma would be the one to tell her that cold was good for hard workers. The more you worked the warmer you'd be. Normally, Rebecca would not complain, but today the world was spinning and she could not find a straight line to walk upon. She trundled silently into the kitchens and accepted a bowl of plain gruel from one of the maids. It was about all she could keep down, and she rejected the small piece of bread being handed to her.

She ate quietly and slowly, finding every bite as repulsive as the last. Almost the moment she put her spoon down for good she found she had to bolt from the kitchen and out a side door which led to the snowy grounds outside to vomit up the little breakfast she had just consumed. Stooping low and gasping for breath as the sickness left her, she leaned against the wall of the doorway. The chill air of winter was a comfort against her. She almost felt as if she could fall asleep in that very spot when her mother found her and dragged her back indoors.

"Are you trying to catch your death out there, my girl. Here," she handed her a handkerchief, not waiting for Rebecca to respond, "Wipe your mouth, ya look like the dead."

Rebecca actually managed a small chuckle at that as she did as her mother asked. Rebecca had been morbidly amused in a great deal of deathly things of late. She found her illness to be some great joke; a point she had been trying to prove to her mother.

"All settled now?" Gemma asked.

Rebecca nodded, her stomach did indeed feel less like a tumultuous storm and her head was beginning to clear. It was always this way. The mornings were the worst, the day progressed with very little interruption, but her lethargy was a permanent affliction. "I'll get t' my chores now, mum." She sighed.

"Wait." Gemma ordered gruffly. She seemed to be reluctantly holding her daughter back, but her concern for her health seemed to have finally taken priority over the regular chores of the household. "This sickness has gone on far enough. There's a woman in the village. A right healer some folks say. You're gonna go t' her, see if she can't set ya straight."

"I don't want a healer." Rebecca muttered.

"I know, ya want t' die moaning and bewailing your fate like some tragic maid in a child's tale, but it won't do, Becca. Your sick, plain an' simple and it ain't catching, whatever it is. The healer'll know what's the matter and that'll be the end o' it." Gemma said firmly. "Take a cloak. The sooner ya go, the sooner ya can get back and get on with it."

***

Bundled up tight against the winter wind, Rebecca made her way into the village. The home that she was looking for was on the outskirts of the village. Unsure if her directions had been right, but faithfully believing that her mother had not steered her wrong, she knocked upon the old door twice. She received no answer the first time, befuddled by this she knocked once more.

The door swung open, "I would have thought the weather enough to ward off any patients for the day. Well? What is it that you want?" The woman of the old hovel stood with her hands on her hips as she stared down the wind battered form of her visitor.

"I...I was..."

"Speak up there, girl, I haven't got all day." The woman snapped.

"Are ya...Matilda the healer?" Rebecca asked.

"Yes, an' this is my home. You still haven't told me what you want. Now speak up, are you a woman or a mouse?" Matilda said.

"My mum sent me. Said ya know..what..what was wrong..."

Matilda sighed, "Get in." She said, "No sense in asking you what ails you while your standing in a thick of snow." She led Rebecca inside her home. It was surprisingly warm on the inside.

A young girl was sitting upon the bed. She gave Rebecca a smile and a wave. Rebecca waved back. "My daughter, Rosa." Matilda grunted out an introduction.

"She is lovely." Rebecca said, feeling her gift of speech returning to her now that she was out of the cold and realizing that this woman was not so very fierce after all.

Matilda nodded at the compliment and offered Rebecca a chair. She sat down, pulling her cloak about her shoulders, still reluctant to take it off. She felt unsure as to why she had come in the first place. "Now," Matilda declared, "What brings you to my home on such a fine day as this one?"

Rebecca laughed a little, "Nothing...I came for the sake o' my mum. She thinks I'm sickening for something. Wouldn't leave me be 'till I agreed t' see ya."

"Young girls should listen to their mothers." Matilda chided, "Maybe she's more astute than you care t'know."

"Maybe." Rebecca agreed with a light smile, "At any rate. It's nothing serious. Just a sickness in the mornings an' times during the day. Makes my head spin an' makes me tired. It passes though."

"Always in the morning?" Matilda asked.

Rebecca nodded, "Get's better later on. Like I said, jus' say it's nothing so my mum can stop worrying herself over it."

Matilda frowned and glanced at her up and down, examining her. "Smell o' cooking turn your stomach at times?"

"Sometimes...not always. I can eat fine most o' the time...except this morning." Rebecca shrugged.

"And how are you now?" Matilda asked.

"Fine, like nothing ever happened." Rebecca shrugged.

Matilda seemed to have already come to her own conclusions, but she had a few more questions for the girl, "Mum had to let out a few o' your dresses lately?"

Rebecca blushed, "Only a bit. It's winter...ain't it always the way t' get a bit rounder?" She joked.

"Tell me girl," Matilda asked, her voice lowering, "Are you..." this was a tender matter, she could not just barge in with a few short words and expect an answer. "That is...are you betrothed?"

She could see from the look upon Rebecca's face that this was not so. "I...I don't—what does that have t' do with anything?"

"A great deal I'm afraid." Matilda sighed. "For I do believe you are with child."

The cloak fell to the floor to spill about the legs of the chair. Rebecca sat as rigid as a rod for a moment. Her cheeks paling considerably and her eyes slowly going wider and wider. With shaking hands she covered her abdomen, looking down at it with fresh eyes. "That can't be." She whispered, the panic rising in her voice, "H-h-how can ya be sure? It can't..."

"I've dealt with many a young girl confused over the changes to her body. I am sure. Is the rogue of a father living in Locksley?" Matilda asked, although Rebecca had no words to reply. Frowning Matilda squinted her sharp eyes, studying the girl's face intently. "Though I do not think you're from this village, but I do recall your face..."

"I'm not from Locksley." Rebecca exhaled slowly, her voice a frightened whisper. "I was brought here...'bout a month ago."

"Dear Lord," Matilda said, "you came here with the rest o' the lot from Gisborne?"

Rebecca stared quietly at Matilda before nodded slowly. "My name is Rebecca, an' yes," she said, forcing the words out, "I used t' live in Gisborne."

"Rebecca..." Matilda repeated, "I've heard that name....you're..."

"I know what they used t' call me." Rebecca said quickly as she rose to her feet. "Apparently they were right, hm?"

Matilda stood up as well, "You should rest yourself, child." She advised.

"Matilda..." Rebecca said, "Swear that ya won't tell a soul." She begged and Matilda felt a tug of pity for the waif of a girl. She found herself agreeing without being told twice.

Rebecca picked up her cloak from the floor and draped it over her shoulders. She said her thanks in a cool tone and left the home of the healer. Outside the snow whipped past her face, freezing any tears she might have had. She walked, slowly at first, her astonishment freezing her limbs more effectively then the snow could. Then she began to smile. Then she laughed. She was the only one laughing in the dead winter morning. She ran, kicking up the snow as she ran back to Locksley. Her heart feeling lighter and filled with such a joy she knew not how to contain it.

She wrapped her cloak tighter over herself, as if to shield her child from the cold. In an instant she knew she would protect her child from far worse dangers than snow or winter. She knew that when she told her mother of this she would try to convince her to abandon the child. Well, she would not. Her baby had already been denied a father it would not be denied a mother as well; Rebecca was going to make sure of that.

* * *

**A/N: Told I could do much, much worse then previously seen. Oh, but we're far from finished although things are going to start escalating even faster than before. How on earth are Becca and Guy going to manage now, hm? Next chapter will be up soon! Do review! **

**Also, some scenes of dialogue that appeared in this chapter are (c) BBC. And if you were wondering I started working on this story back when ep 8 first aired. That servant girl intrigued the heck out of me, don't ask me why.  
**


	20. Exile

XX

Exile

Rebecca had been concentrating on removing the rope from about her wrists for nearly two hours. In a calm state of delirium, she wriggled her hands against one another, hoping to slide the rope off of her. After feeling the knots give a little she began to rub them against the edge of the bed post. The rough wood cut into the tough strands until eventually, Rebecca managed to gain enough room between her wrists and the rope, to free herself. The broken rope fell to the floor, slithering into a coil like an aggravated snake.

With a dull feeling of triumph, Rebecca sat upright and pulled the gag off of her mouth. Silence filled her ears, drowning out the rush of panic threatening to blind her. She had no choice, she would have to make a run for it. Swinging herself over, she leapt off of the bed and made her way to the door. She wrenched it open, and down she went: nearly tripping over the stairs, colliding into chairs, cutting through the hallway; until at last she saw the door insight.

This elation of escape was quickly cut short at the realization of the two guards standing just outside. Unaware of their presence at first, Rebecca merely ran out the door and into the grounds beyond, thinking that she would make a clean break of it. One of the guards; however, had been given different instructions. She was snatched up in an instant and restrained. She begged and screamed and pleaded to be released, but the men had been given orders by the Prince himself. No one was to leave Locksley Manor. She tried to explain that Guy had overpowered her. That she had been entirely innocent. The men, of course, did not believe this and they brought her back in doors and shackled her to one of the wooden posts just beyond the main hallway.

She screamed for a little while and struggled bravely, but after a while the fight went out of her and she sat quiet and resigned against the post. Exhausted from the events of the day she slipped into a twilight state of sleep. It was only when she was brutally kicked hours later that came back into reality. Too tired to have cried out in pain, Rebecca merely grunted and snapped her head up. The manor had grown darker now that evening was falling. Could a day really disappear so fast? Through the shadows and her blurred vision, Rebecca thought Isabella was standing over her. Although she couldn't be sure.

"Pathetic." Now she was sure. That was Isabella's voice, the woman kneeled before her eyeing her with contempt.

"The Prince didn't have ya arrested then, did he?" Rebecca said, her words coming in choking gasps as she tried to regain her breath.

"Far from it." Isabella hissed, "He's given me everything I could wish. I'm the new Sheriff of Nottingham."

"Congratulations." Rebecca said, "May it bring ya every joy."

"Oh, I wouldn't mock me right now, Becca. That's a very dangerous thing to do." Isabella chided.

"Why is that? Ya gonna kill me?" Rebecca asked.

"I could." Isabella said, "You disobeyed my orders and released my prisoner. I could have you killed."

"Then don't stand on ceremony for my sake." Rebecca shrugged as best she could, with her arms shackled above her head.

Isabella grinned wolfishly, "Lucky for you, there'll be no need for an execution. Guy was recaptured not but an hour ago. So you see," she giggled seeing Rebecca's face fall, "I don't have to go through the trouble of killing both of you."

"You're lying." Rebecca decided.

"I assure you I am not."

"You've lied t' me before an' you're lying now!" Rebecca shouted, struggling once again.

Isabella shook her head, "What power my brother has over you, Becca." She sighed, "It is a shame. I could have given you everything; made you a rich and powerful woman. You could have had my favour as well as the Prince's. The entire kingdom could have been open to you and you threw it away."

"I have no desire for riches or power, let alone a kingdom." Rebecca said, "An' I do not know when ya became so sick with greed."

"You fool. When will you realize that I am not the girl you remember?" Isabella shouted, as if offended.

"I do realize it." Rebecca said, "The Isabella I knew, the girl that I helped t' raise was a sweet and dear child that would have rather died than harmed her own brother or any one whom she loved. No, Isabella. I see who ya are...an' I wash my hands o' ya."

"And I you. Guards!" She shouted, rising to her feet as her retinue marched into the house, "Take the prisoner to Nottingham. Keep her in the dungeons for the night. Tomorrow she shall receive her punishment."

***

Guy had been surprised when he had not been immediately taken to the dungeons. He had been left outside in the cage. Only when night had fallen did he realize exactly why Isabella had ordered he be left there. The night could prove exceedingly cold when one was left hanging in a cage. By morning he was still shivering fiercely and the hunger, which had been gnawing at him for hours, had disappeared into a dull ache. His arms were throbbing with poor circulation, but he had no desire to struggle against this discomfort. He had resigned himself to it. Eventually, Isabella would put him in the dungeons and then it was just a matter of time until he was killed. He was almost grateful of this inevitability.

The chilly first hours of daylight gave way to warmer sun, and the increase of the light and heat managed to rouse Guy from his torpid state. Behind him, Guy could hear the gates to the castle being raised as guards marched in leading a crowd behind them. Guy raised his head a little to see what was happening. The sound of trumpets cut through the air and Guy watched with bitter hatred as his sister strode out of the castle doors to a throne chair. Even from his position at the furthest wall he could see the smug smile plastered on her face. He wanted nothing more than to cut her down from her high perch.

The immediacy of his hatred soon gave way to curiosity. Was she going to make a speech to the populace? She had already done so yesterday. A decree then? That would be like her, to gain the people's trust, but these poor fools had no idea what they were getting into. She would use them, just as Vaysey had, she would prove no different.

"Bring out the prisoner." Isabella commanded.

Prisoner? Had there been one in the dungeon? He did not know. Perhaps she was going to pardon a few of the unfortunates who had been brought to the cells. That would be clever of her. This idea was shattered; however, the instant Guy saw just who the prisoner was. Stumbling out into the light was Rebecca. Her arms were shackled and so were her ankles so she was forced to hobble as she walked up to the scaffold. Her hair was matted and dirty and falling out of the ribbon she usually kept it up in. Her pale skin seemed to have tarnished overnight by the grime of the prison cell. She walked with all the determination of a dead man, and as she mounted the scaffold she turned to stare at Isabella blankly, accepting whatever punishment was in store of her.

Guy found himself struggling in his bonds at the sight of her. No one could see him and so no one ordered for him to be still. The steel of his own shackles cut into his already raw skin, but this did not stop him. He pulled and strained against them like a wild man. Although what did it matter really if Rebecca was killed? He would be joining her shortly, of that he had no doubt.

"Rebecca Tanner," Isabella said, "You are charged with aiding the escape of a known traitor to the people; my brother, Guy of Gisborne. Do you deny this accusation?"

"No." Rebecca said.

"And you do not wish to repent this crime and ask for my mercy?" Isabella asked.

"I didn't think ya were capable o' mercy, my lady." Rebecca's taunt was greeted with hisses from the crowd.

Isabella's smug smile dropped just a little as anger flushed her cheeks red for a moment. "The prisoner refuses to repent." She announced formerly, "Then let her be punished for her crimes, but let her first know that I am a woman of mercy. I'm sure the former Sheriff would have had you executed for such crimes, but I am not such a Sheriff. Let the prisoner receive thirty lashes, and may it serve as a lesson for you."

Two of the soldiers came forward to unshackle her wrists and ankles and tie her to the two posts running parallel on either side of her. One of the men tore open the back of her dress, exposing the shift she wore beneath it. The crack of the whip could be heard snapping through the air. The crowd gathered together tighter, while simultaneously pulling away at the sound; like a great wave they moved together in this rhythm, pulling forward to watch and dashing away to escape the cruelty.

Guy found himself wincing with every strike of the lash. For all of Rebecca's momentary bravery at defying Isabella, she was not so stoic as to be silent when such pain was inflicted upon her. She cried out each time the whip struck her. After the fourth lash, her skin had broke and blood stained the tip of the whip and every strike thereafter brought forth more blood until her back was stained with it and it ran down in rivulets. By the thirtieth lash, she was slumped in her bonds and her head lolled from side to side and it was apparent that she had lost her voice from screaming.

She was cut down shortly after and she fell forward onto her knees. Isabella rose from her throne and walked down the castle steps to meet her on the scaffold. "Now have you seen my mercy." She commented pityingly to the woman, "I have given you your life; however, Nottingham can not afford to harbour criminals and traitors. So for this you are exiled from this shire." Isabella announced, "To return only upon pain of death. Fair you well, Rebecca." She turned to walk away, letting the guards help the injured woman upright to escort her out of the castle.

The crowd dispersed with them and soon the courtyard was bare again. Guy watched as Rebecca was led out beyond the gates. She was stumbling and barely conscious, and so did not see him even as she walked directly past him. Guy once again strained against his bonds, but she was gone.

"Ah, brother, it seems that everywhere you go you bring chaos and pain with you." Isabella had walked over to his cage, once again that smug smile had flickered back upon her face.

Catching sight of her, he fought to get to her, wanting nothing more than to rip her apart. "Temper, Guy." Isabella giggled like a girl as she jumped backwards.

"What was the point in that?" He accused with a low growl, "Becca was never a threat to you, you didn't have to banish her!"

"Are you really that thick, Guy?" Isabella taunted, drawing closer to his cage. "I'll fill you in on a little secret of mine. Dear Becca was a threat to me the moment you brought her to the castle. It only took me a moment to realize that you were still highly protective over her and she was still sickeningly in love with you. Oh? You didn't know this?" She laughed as she saw the astonished look pass over Guy's face, "Of course you didn't. Obviously having Becca around would prove problematic, as you can see, she did try so hard to save you didn't she? You were so predictable, Guy, all it took was a hint there and a little nudge and you actually believed she had betrayed you. In your defence, Becca had begun to think you were willing to do anything to get rid of her, but oh well. Getting that outlaw's tag was easy enough though. Oh, Guy you should _see_ yourself right now." She laughed uproariously at the sight of him. "Guards, take him away," she managed to say in between her laughter.

She walked off, the horrified cries and screams her brother shouted at her proved to be music to her ears.

**_Fall, 1173_**

"Father, Father!" Robin cried as he came tearing up the hill, his bow in his hand.

"What is it?" Malcolm of Locksley asked, placing a steady hand upon his son's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

"Fight in the village." He panted, "I think Rebecca's caught down there!"

"You did right in coming to me." Malcolm said as he followed his son over to where he had first caught a glimpse of the fighting. Malcolm stood at the crest of the hill looking down. He could see a small group of young boys tussling about and for an instant he caught sight of a girl's dress and small fists lashing out at the attackers.

In an instant he went running down the hill and as soon as he was near enough to the fight he called out, "What's going on here?" The two young boys looked up from their fight and immediately broke apart. The girl who had been caught in the middle of the tussle was left flat on her back. She had a cut at the bottom corner of her right eye and it was drizzling blood. Her cheek was bruised and turning a bright shade of reddish purple and her fists were bruised and dirtied as well. Even for all of this colourful decoration, Malcolm recognized her as Rebecca Tanner.

"Have you lost your senses?" Malcolm said as he helped Rebecca to her feet, "Fighting a helpless girl."

Rebecca glared at him for the insinuation, but she held her tongue, spitting blood into the dust. "She was the one who started it." One of the boys accused adamantly.

"Really now?" Malcolm said, unconvinced.

"What's all this then?" Another voice broke through as Bailiff Longthorn strode over to the scene of the fight. "Fighting in the town square?"

"I'm handling this, Longthorn." Malcolm snapped.

"Be that as it may." Longthorn said snidely, "I see no reason why I not be present in this unofficial hearing."

Malcolm had no choice, but to concede. "Now, tell me what really happened."

The three culprits said nothing at first, but eventually Rebecca spoke up, "They were making remarks, sir, 'bout Lady Gisborne an' G—an' her son." Her eyes shifted away from Malcolm, her cheeks burning with bruises and anger.

"What remarks?"

"Saying she wasn't fit t' be Lady o' the manor." She spat, "Saying how she an' her family ought t' have been thrown out with the master."

"And she just attacked us!" One of the boys suddenly shouted.

"Well ya shouldn't have been saying those things!" Rebecca challenged.

"An' where d'you come off punishing us, eh?" The boy said, "Not like it's your place, even if you are Master Guy's little whore!"

Rebecca lunged for the boy, but Longthorn restrained her. "That's quite enough out of you." He said. "One more outburst and I'll see you in the stocks."

Rebecca calmed down, her arms clenched at her sides, still glaring venom at the two boys. "I think that this can be handled without anymore violence, don't you, Longthorn?" Malcolm said. "Send them home. No permanent damage was done. You two," he gestured to the boys, "apologize to her."

"Sorry." The two muttered under their breath.

"And you, Rebecca." Malcolm prompted.

"I'm sorry ya couldn't have been born smarter." She said proudly. She was rewarded with a cuff about the ears from Longthorn.

"Impudent child. I warned you. To the stocks with you." He grabbed her by the collar and began to drag her away.

"Longthorn!" Malcolm shouted, "I said no more. You've done your duty, now see that the boys don't cause further trouble. I'll take care of the girl." Seeing that the man was about to argue the point further he growled out, "Go!"

Rebecca was left standing before Malcolm. She would not meet his frowning gaze. "Why do you insist upon starting trouble, Rebecca?" He asked her.

"I told ya, my lord, they were slandering my mistress's name."

"And it is not your place to go fighting over it." Malcolm said.

"My father died for the master." Rebecca snapped, "O' course it's my place."

"Your loyalty is honourable, Rebecca." Malcolm said, "But I am certain your father would not want your own reputation to come under question."

"I don't care about my reputation." Rebecca muttered petulantly. Then, upon realizing who she was speaking to, she winced, "My lord..."

"Why don't you get back to the manor, Rebecca." Malcolm said, "I don't see any reason why anyone else has to know of this, do you?"

Realizing that he was sparing her for any further humiliation or punishment, Rebecca stared at him warily. He had never been overly fond of her and she had certainly made her dislike of him very clear. Why the, would he spare her? She had spoken out of turn and made a spectacle of herself in the middle of the town. "Thank you, my lord." She said slowly as she turned to go.

She tried to think further on this conundrum, occasionally glancing back over her shoulder to see if he was watching her. Eventually the pain racing through her tired body won her over and she focused on walking back to the manor. Her mother wasn't going to be overly pleased at the state of her. She could always explain that she had fallen down—although Rebecca was certain that no mere trip would give her bloody knuckles, a black eye and bruised rib cage. It was worth the chance.

"There you are!" A voice from the floor above her shouted, "You said you were only going to be gone a few minutes and half the day's past since then. If you were going to go out wandering you might have said so."

Rebecca froze, her head averted from the balcony, "Can't even go for a walk on my own now can I?"

"Isn't it usually much more entertaining when I'm with you?"

"Yes, but the thing is, Guy, whenever ya say it's just a walk it never turns out t' be just a walk."

"That's where the entertainment comes in."

"Rouge." Rebecca retorted, a smile cracking across her face, "Keep your voice down. Want the whole manor t' hear about it?" The whole manor already knew about it and half the village as well, but the people had a way of keeping gossip to themselves.

"Then come up here." Guy said, leaning against the rail.

"No. I have things t' do an'..."

"Then I'll come down."

"No, no! I..." But he was already making his way down the stairs. Rebecca tried to turn away from him, but Guy playful grabbed at her arm to turn her to face him. She had no choice. She looked up at him and saw in an instant the change come over his expression. She tried to cal him, "Before ya say anything, I'm fine. I swear, it looks worse than it is..."

"Who did this?" He asked quietly.

"No one. I fell coming up the hill, damn dress is too long for me I suppose." Rebecca laughed nervously.

"You fell?" He asked again, no believing her for a second.

She nodded. "Ya know me, always clumsy."

"Becca..."

"Should have been watching where I was going..."

"Becca!"

"All o' a sudden, _whoosh_, flat on my back, I was an..."

"Don't lie to me, Becca!" Guy said giving her a little shake.

She lowered her head, "Two boys in the village. Heard 'em talking 'bout the mistress an'...an' ya. Gave 'em what for. Got out o' hand, but it's fine. I'm fine. Guy!" She latched onto his arm, trying to pull him away from the door, "Do ya want to prove the gossips right? Just leave it be."

"They hurt you." He said.

"An' what's that got t' do with it? Everyone'll want t' know why ya care over the fact that a _servant_ was beaten." Rebecca tried to reason with him. "Leave it, Guy, for my sake just leave it!"

"What were you thinking, Becca?" Guy asked, "Fighting...God you're lucky you aren't worse off than you are."

Grateful that his anger had at least turned inwards on itself, Rebecca sighed, momentarily resting her head on Guy's shoulder. "So what if I was? You're my friend, Guy. I'd fight for you. I know you'd fight for me too."

"Not when you act like such a fool." he retorted, but he wasn't serious, Rebecca could tell.

She smiled, Guy kissed her quickly. Rebecca pulled away, "Ouch..." she said, putting a hand over her bruised lips.

"Sorry." He apologized. "Should get your injuries seen to."

"Is that your new excuse t' get me upstairs?" Rebecca teased.

"Becca, I was being serious." He said in low tones as he slung an arm about her waist, leading her up the stairs.

"What? So was I. I was hoping you'd let me hide in your room. If my mum catches me like this she'll kill me!"

* * *

**A/N: The mystery of how Becca and Guy reconcile their differences is going to be solved in the next chapters...actually it is going to be the main plot element up until the very end and I guarantee a good time will be had by all. ;) **


	21. Enter the Outlaws

XXI

Enter the Outlaws

The gravelly dirt of the road marking the outskirts of Nottingham cut into Rebecca's skin as she was forcibly thrown out of the town. She skidded halfway out past the gates and lay still. She could hear the closing of the portcullis behind her, but she did nothing to rise up. Her eyes were closed and her arms were stretched out, palms flat upon the road. The sun steadily dried the blood smearing her back, but it did little to ease the fire which was racing up and down her body. She willed herself dead. Never in the most darkest parts of her life had Rebecca dared to pray for death. Now, what little difference did it make? She was an outcast, a fugitive lucky to be given what little life she still had. Yet, she had no desire to use this to her advantage. Where would she go? What fortune would find her elsewhere?

Everyone she cared for was dead. It was far better to die and take her chances in the afterlife then live through a lifetime of loneliness needlessly. Her mother, her father, her son...she'd see them again, and after a life of suffering did she not deserve their company? This thought was soothing. If she waited until dark she would surely not last through the night in her condition. If she stayed down, she would die. It would be over.

The sound of mocking laughter filled her ears. An image of Isabella standing over her, laughing as she kicked her corpse over to see her dead face startled Rebecca into semi-consciousness. This was what she had wanted. Isabella wouldn't kill her, she wanted to see if she would do the work for her. Suddenly the images of the loving face of her mother turned scornful. _Is that it then? Giving up? Going to die like a dog in the streets? No daughter of mine would give them the satisfaction..._

Live. The sudden instinct leapt into her brain. Live. She had to survive. Isabella would scour the shire for her body. She was like a wolf, only satisfied until her prey was caught and dead. Well, she would prove harder to kill than she thought. With staggering and painful slowness, Rebecca rose to her feet, her back screaming in protest as she bent and uncurled and straightened. She stood on shaking legs. With unsure footing she started off down the path. She would survive this, because she had been through worse. All her life she had lived for the sake of others. She was going to learn how to stand on her own two, shaking legs from now on. She was going to survive, because she was going to be Isabella's personal ghost for the rest of her haunted life. She had been beaten too many times. She was going to live. She was going to fight.

With this tired sense of determination, Rebecca managed a slow, trudging pace into the heart of Sherwood. If she could find a suitable resting place, perhaps by a stream of water, she might make it through the night. She wandered aimlessly through the thicket of trees until, unable to walk further, she collapsed against the trunk of an oak tree. Lights were dancing around in her head and vaguely she was aware that she was shivering. She found it odd that she should be so cold on so bright a day. And then she was burning and as soon as she fell the pain returned with a vengeance. She stifled a moan of pain, but sound seemed so distant that it might have been a sharp cry. At least she was sheltered here. She could sleep for now, Isabella wouldn't began her searchings until the next morning, Rebecca was sure of this. Then, she wasn't sure of anything, for sound and colour grew into darkness and then everything went into blissful black.

***

"She's in bad shape." A voice announced, cutting through the peaceful darkness. "Where did she come from?"

"Who knows." Another voice said, "You can't seriously want to take her back to the camp, Tuck."

"Would you rather leave her here to die, Allan? Because I assure you if we leave her here you'll have had a hand in killing her." Tuck said.

"Was only saying, an' not being funny, but we don't exactly have room for every injured stray in Nottingham." Allan said.

"Were you born with half a heart Allan, or just the ability to conceal it from others?" Tuck retorted.

"Oh, now that ain't fair." Allan grumbled as he helped Tuck pick up the unconscious Rebecca. "I'm practically a bloody saint."

"Hallo!" A voice called out from further away, "What's going on there? Found something?"

"Much!" Tuck called out, "Found a girl out here. She's injured. Tell Robin I'm bringing her back to the camp."

"A girl?" Much asked, curiously as he approached them, "What in the—bloody Hell...Rebecca!"

"Rebecca?" Allan repeated.

Much pointed at the unconscious girl in Tuck's arms, "That's Rebecca! She's a servant from Locksley. What's she doing here? What happened?"

"I'm afraid we won't know the answer to that until she wakes." Tuck said.

"Servant girl, eh?" Allan commented as they walked back to the camp "Think we might all take a guess at how she got to be in this state."

"Doesn't matter now." Tuck said, "Pick up the pace, there Allan. The woman's liable to die if she doesn't get seen to."

"I'm moving, I'm moving."

The pair made their way through the forests, Much ran on ahead to catch up with Robin back at the camp. Through a grove and down into a canyon, they walked until they reached the foot of hillside, hidden between two sides of rock. Allan dashed upwards and seemed to tug upon the cliff face, pressing a hidden lever. Immediately the undergrowth shifted and moved as an awning grew out of the forest floor revealing the outlaws' camp. Tuck hurried inside with his precious cargo.

"Much told me you found Rebecca in the woods?" A man said, immediately rushing to meet the pair.

"Help me get her inside." Tuck asked. The two men eased the woman into the camp.

"Found her lying among the trees, nearly fell over her." Allan explained to the rest of the camp, including Robin, "Looks like she was whipped something awful." He whistled at the sight of the torn and bloodied state of Rebecca's dress.

A thin groan cut through the conversation. Rebecca was stirring in Tuck's arms. "Guy..." Her eyelids fluttered briefly before opening. Her pupils were dilated and she gazed about at the unfamiliar faces vaguely at first, and then she panicked. "Wh-wh-where's Guy?" she asked.

"Set her down on the bunk." Robin whispered to the stunned Tuck. She was positioned upon one of the empty bunks. She sank down against the makeshift bed, she had no strength to force herself upright, although she cowered into the wall of the camp.

"Rebecca you know me." Robin said gently, as he would speak to a startled mare. "It's me, Robin."

Rebecca stared at him, her feverish eyes darting about. "No." She shook her head, "No...no...if he finds me here...he'll never believe me."

"Who, Rebecca?" Robin asked.

"I have t' go." She said softly, struggling to sit up. "I have t' leave...have t'..."

Robin pushed her back down as gently as possible. This set Rebecca off into a feverish panic. "Let me go! I can't stay here! Get off o' me!" She screamed.

The others started forward, but Robin assuaged their momentary panic. "It's all right. She's feverish. Come on now, Rebecca, it's all right. Rest now. You're safe. No one is going to find you here. I promise."

Rebecca looked up at him pleadingly, her fingers clutching at the collar of his coat, "Where's my son?" She whispered feebly, her mood changing, "Where is he?"

"Son? Rebecca never had a--"

"He's here." Robin said, cutting off Much's inquiry, although confused at the question himself. He decided that it must be no more then her delirium, so it was best to play along, "But he's resting as you should be."

This news seemed to relax the feverish woman and she slumped back down upon the bunk, her arms growing lax, "He's here?" She asked again. Robin nodded. "That's good." she sighed, her eyelids drooping. "That's good..."

The gang let out a collective breath as soon as Rebecca fell back to sleep. "All right," Allan said, "Does someone wanna tell me what the hell is going on here?"

Robin left the woman's side to allow Tuck access to his new patient. "This woman," he announced, "Is Rebecca Tanner. She used to by servant in Locksley. As to why she's here...I don't know, but she stays for as long as she needs care."

A blond haired woman who was the only one seemingly unaffected by the startling display snorted rudely, "You're going to harbour that whore?"

"Kate!" Much exclaimed. "What was that for?"

Robin looked surprised at such an exclamation. "Yes, Kate, I think you owe us an explanation. Rebecca was a good friend to me. She practically raised me."

"She's Guy's girl." Kate shrugged as if this was common knowledge, "Ever since he came into Locksley she was always making eyes at him and following him around like some lost puppy. Everyone in the village called her Gisborne's Whore."

Allan coughed to cover a snicker at the derogatory term, but quickly hushed up at the glare from Robin. "You'd do best not to call her that whilst she's with us." Robin warned.

"I wouldn't, but Robin, what if this is a trap of some kind." Kate said defensively.

"I highly doubt sending a feverish and heavily injured woman into the woods would constitute much of a trap. It's by chance we even managed to find her." Tuck commented as he worked steadily on cleaning out the ugly gashes left from the whip on Rebecca's back.

"Just 'cause she's helpless now doesn't mean she'll be that way when she get's better." Kate retorted. "I don't want her here. Don't like it."

"Whatever you think of her Kate, Rebecca never did anything to betray me. She's a good and honest woman, and as for her connections to Gisborne..." he paused, shaking his head, "those aren't my secrets to tell you."

"This is the last thing we need right now. More secrets." Kate sighed.

"No the last thing we need is another friend dying." Robin's words silenced any dissension. "She stays."

"All right, Robin, all right." Kate conceded, "She can stay."

**_1192_**

The broom bristles were nearly black as it swept up along the sides of the hearth. Rebecca guided the broom along the sides of the fireplace, sweeping out a few of the ashes that had flown out of the hearth. Another servant was busy cleaning the mantel directly above her. Out from the foyer she could a hurried pounding of feet. She paused in her labours for a moment, she swore she could hear frantic voices from outside the door. Rebecca and her companion exchanged curious glances before the door burst open and a servant—one of the stable lads—came bolting in. His face was flushed with energy and his eyes were bright. "The master's back!" He exclaimed. "He's back!"

Rebecca chuckled low, although a twang of nervous pain throbbed in her gut, "Is that what all the excitement was about? For shame, master Guy arrives back in Locksley almost the same time every day."

"Not Sir Guy! Master Robin!"

"Thomas!" The other maid squeaked, "It ain't nice to tease us like that...oh, is he really back?!"

Thomas nodded fervently, "Standing in the hall right now with Thornton an' Mary. Much's with him too. Saw him myself. He's really back!"

The maid uttered a little prayer under her breath as she abandoned her chores to rush out to greet her long absent lord and master. Rebecca found herself following close behind, her mind in a spinning daze. She rushed out into the hallway and stood amazed to see Robin of Locksley there as if he had never left. His cheerful, smiling face was constantly turning about to greet his old servants and friends. Rebecca lingered behind as her mind sought to catch up with her.

Eventually, Robin spotted her in her secluded corner. "Rebecca Tanner." He said bounding over to her, still the same bright-eyed boy, "Is your stern eyed face all I am to expect as a welcome. Come on," He embraced whether or not he felt it would be acceptable. Suddenly, Rebecca felt very small against this boyish man, but Robin's joy was contagious, it always had been. She soon found her lips drawing upwards in a smile. She batted at him to put her down.

"Enough of that." She said, "Let me take a look at ya, master Robin. Hmm..." She circled him, "Haven't changed a bit, still as scrawny as ever. Taller perhaps, but quite the fool with that grin on your face."

"You get more and more like your mother with every minute. Tell me, where is Gemma anyway?" Robin asked.

"She's..." Her throat clamped shut like a clam. She would have thought it easy enough to tell Robin of all people of her mother's passing, but even mentioning it once more was enough to bring the grief back to the forefront of her mind. She swallowed hard and tried again, but after realizing no good would come of her chasing after a lost voice she merely shook her head. Robin understood.

"Oh no..." His voice lowered and the smile was gone from his face, "Not Gemma. When did this happen?"

"Four months ago about." Rebecca managed to say, folding her arms across her chest. "'S'alright. Was an easy passing."

She flinched slightly when Robin placed a hand upon her shoulder. "At least you had friends to comfort you."

"Yes." She said, reflecting on how Guy had awkwardly tried to console her. "I did."

"Poor Rebecca," Robin sighed, "Of all the people in Locksley, you must have been the least happy to hear of my return."

Rebecca smiled ruefully, "I would not go so far as t' say that, master Robin."

"But you do not deny it either." Robin said. "Still his friend. I wonder what he ever did to deserve such loyalty."

"Little good it does either of us now." Rebecca said, "You are come back and he will go, an' do not think I had not kept this day in the back o' my mind all this time. I am content t' be your servant again, master Robin."

"No you're not, you liar." Robin said with a wink before heaving a sigh at Rebecca's curious expression, "I think if circumstances had not been what they were we might have been good friends to each other, hm?"

"I've always considered ya--"

Robin waved her away, "You've always considered me what you were forced to consider me. I think whatever friendship you've shown me was that which you wished you were able to give another."

"That's not all true, master Robin."

"Perhaps not, then." He said, "Either way, you'll need not have to do it any longer."

"Pardon?"

"Gisborne leaves Locksley tonight, and as of this moment, I release you from my services."

It took a moment for Rebecca to understand the meaning behind Robin's abrupt dismissal. Robin merely shrugged, "You never had a choice when you came to Locksley. You should have a choice now."

Rebecca embraced Robin with such an intense fury they both nearly fell to the floor. Robin chuckled softly as he returned the enthusiastic hug. "Thank you," Rebecca whispered, surprised to find herself nearly sobbing with relief. "Robin...thank you..."

Ever since Guy had first come to Locksley Rebecca knew that eventually Robin would return. She had convinced herself she would be able to part from him again, but she had never considered that Robin would allow her to leave as well. She was well aware, that Guy may not want her, but freedom was better than remaining in this prison of a village.

"I wish you well." Robin said, "Now go, already I see you are anxious to make yourself ready."

There was no point in arguing that she wasn't, even now, fidgeting to pack what little she owned and to be well away from Locksley. The day had never seemed brighter. She dashed away to the servant's quarters, knocking over the broom she had been using not minutes before. It clattered to the floor with a most satisfying effect. She laughed, wiping the dust from her hands as she walked away.

***

Rebecca slung her haversack over one shoulder. It was considerably light, but she had no need for being bogged down with useless things. She had packed herself enough rations to at least last her until she was clear of Nottingham. She had a little money, and it would be enough to buy her food and shelter at any inn she happened to stumble upon on the road. She didn't know where she was bound for, or if she would be accompanied or not. Somehow, that did not concern her. Freedom was clinging to her like ivy; it was growing outwards in all directions.

She made her way into the manor, knowing that she had seen Guy return not but an hour or two before. Perhaps he was even now reading himself to leave Locksley. This thought dampened the joy spreading in her heart. Guy had always viewed Locksley as a mark of personal triumph, his revenge against Malcolm, and all the others who had forced him from his home. Rebecca was almost surprised Guy had not fought harder to maintain control over the manor, but even he, with all his arrogant pride, must have known there would be no contending Robin over his rightful title and land. Guy must have retreated like an injured wolf; wounded, yet still just as dangerous. If she knew Guy—and she did—he would see her asking him to leave with him as an act of pity and he would reject it. This did not dissuade her. She would be leaving either with him or without him, and while the idea of perhaps never seeing him again frightened her immensely, she had lived with his absence for several years, surely she could do so again.

"Becca."

The sound of her name caused her to jump. Guy was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. The fire from the hearth casted shadows over his features. Sparks of light would briefly outline him before highlighting him black again. He gave a small sigh as he noticed he had caught her attention. He took a swig from the wine bottle he held in one hand and placed it down on the floor. "Becca, Becca, Becca..." He said in a sing song voice as he sprang out of his chair.

So, it appeared she had missed his angered rages and had joined him in the following stage of self pity. She had hoped she would have gotten to him before this eventually fall, but the damage—judging from the bottle still full and the empty one she could see lounging beside it—was already done. She had no fear of him as he approached her. He had never harmed her while sober, somehow she doubted he would dare to try anything even while he was half way drunk.

"What are we going to do about this?" He asked her.

"Do about what, master?"

"This." He tugged at the strap of her haversack. "You're leaving me now?"

"I wasn't leaving ya, master." Rebecca sighed.

"No? Suppose you were only going out for a midnight walk? Complete with three...four days supplies?" He guessed examining the haversack.

"I was coming t' find ya t' ask--"

"If you could have permission to leave Locksley? Well no." He said like a stubborn child used to getting his own way, "No, you don't have it. Now sit with me..."

"Master, I'm sure Robin was clear on when he wanted ya out o' his home." Rebecca said, trying to turn the subject.

At this Guy laughed, "Robin? What in hell's name would I care what Robin wants?"

"Because this is his manor." Rebecca said, her impatience slowly rising, "An' he said he wanted ya gone by tonight."

"He said that when he was still lord of Locksely." Guy pointed out, "He isn't anymore."

"What are ya talking about?"

"Sit with me, Becca." Guy asked, "and I'll tell you how I almost lost everything."

"Master..."

"Come here _now_." Guy snapped, his good humor suddenly waning as he gestured over to the other chair. He picked it up and dragged it over so that it was facing across from the other. He slammed it down upon the floor.

Rebecca skittered over to him and took a seat. He stared at her for a bit, making sure she would not leave, before he too, returned to his chair. "Robin of Locksley, openly defied the Sheriff today. He rescued several criminals who were due to be hanged. For this he was made an outlaw."

"I don't believe that..." Rebecca spluttered. Robin may have all the bravado in the world, but Rebecca could never picture Robin purposefully making himself an outlaw. His people were too important to him for him to do that.

"Why? Can't believe your precious lord of Locksley would ever do anything wrong?" Guy said. He shrugged casually, leaning back against the chair, "The Sheriff has declared Robin an outlaw. He has lost his claim over his lands and once again, I have Locksley."

"So...ya aren't leaving?"

"Sorry to disappoint you."

Rebecca let the haversack fall from her shoulder to the floor, the strap she kept clutched in her hand as she tried to digest this new information. She looked up at Guy, only to see him reach for the bottle to take another swig of it. He stared back at her, clearly enjoying the tormented expression upon her face. She looked back down and spoke from the floor, "Robin said I could leave Locksley..."

"Was that what he was speaking to you about, then?" Guy grunted.

"What?"

"I saw you." He spat, "Clinging onto him. What were doing? Begging him to keep you on?"

Rebecca's cheeks flushed scarlet, "Robin gave me the choice o' leaving Locksley 'cause he thought ya were going t' be forced out. He was giving me the choice o' leaving with ya! I-i-if...if ya even wanted me t' go with wherever it is ya were...doesn't matter now..."

"Robin was giving you to me?" Guy clarified. He chuckled, "What would I have wanted with you? Did he think a servant girl was compensation enough for the _years_ I gave trying to take back what my family had...."

He had no need to continue. Rebecca knew, and what was more, she understood, even if his words cut her. "I can still go." she said, "Robin released me an' ya have not offered to hire me back on as a servant in the manor. If ya don't need me...I can still go."

"No." The ferocity with which this one word was spoken, nearly frightened Rebecca, "You're my servant. You're not Robin's. He can't give you orders or release you from my service. You are mine and I'm ordering you to stay with me; because of the promise you made."

"Which promise was that, master?" Rebecca asked. "I would have thought any promise we had ever made t' each other would have long since been broken."

"I want you to stay with me." Now at last they had cut away to the raw matter of the argument. The frightened boy scared to death of losing his only friend was finally exposed. This was not an order or a threat. This was a plea, and Rebecca could not refuse; however, she could not shake the feeling of regret has the tendrils of freedom quietly slipped away.

"My poor darling." Rebecca whispered, "Ya won't remember a bit o' this talk come the morning." She rose from her chair, slinging the haversack over her shoulder. She placed a hand upon his shoulder. "You'll wake up an' see me an' maybe you'll remember pieces o' how ya asked me t' stay, but ya won't know why."

"Why?" He asked with childish curiosity as he gripped her arm.

"I'm glad t' know ya didn't want me t' go." Rebecca whispered, purposefully avoiding answering him. "Good night, master."

"Don't leave me."

"Master..."

He kept a hold of her arm, "I want you to stay."

"You're drunk." Rebecca said, "Go get some sleep."

"Becca..."

"I'm here." She hushed. She took his hand in hers as his gripped slackened off, and kissed it softly, "I'm always here."

Then she was gone. Guy staggered away to his own chambers shortly afterwards, and he did exactly as Rebecca said: he remembered nothing.

* * *

**A/N: After all this time and still I hate writing Robin's part. He should be the easiest, but he's the hardest. Does anyone else have this problem with him? Is it just me or is he just a flat character? I feel like I have to add something to him every time to make him more interesting. Do feel free to give some pointers if any of you think you've got a better understanding of Robin's character. **

**Anyway, I'm sorry that this chapter didn't really have much S3 Guy in it. It's the only chapter in which he isn't really in it. I promise once Guy returns Becca is not going to be so sweet. Good times.  
**


	22. Second Chances

XXII

Second Chances

It was the intense stinging which cracked through the fragile shell of Rebecca's sleep. At first it felt like a slight pain, as if something sharp was prodding her back. It escalated steadily and as she tried to wriggle away from it she could feel hands holding her down. She whimpered, now it felt like fire was consuming her. She awoke with a gasp of pain. Jolted back into consciousness she tried to rise to her feet, but found she was being held down as something cold was being applied to her back, it was hurting the gashes on her back. "Get off..." She croaked. Where was she? "Get away from me!"

"She's awake." A voice said.

A scuffling noise from somewhere beside her gave way to a familiar face. "Good morning, Rebecca, glad to see you back with us at last."

"Robin?" Rebecca asked wide eyed. "How...what am I..."

Robin shook his head, "It's all right. You're in our camp. Tuck found you in the forest and brought you here. That was three days ago. You had a fever. Scared us all half to death, but seeing you awake...think you might just make it through."

"I'm in your camp?" Rebecca repeated.

Robin nodded.

"Ya rescued me?"

"In a manner of speaking..."

Rebecca rested her head back down on the bunk as laughter rattled through her. She winced in pain, but she could not longer control herself. Robin stared at her in bemusement, "I fail to see what's so funny."

"Of all the people in Nottingham..." she laughed, "of course it had t' be _ya! _My God, and here I was thinking the Lord was finally showing me a bit 'o mercy...an' instead he sends me ya!"

"Robin, she's not yet fully recovered."

Rebecca tried to crane her head around to look up at Tuck who was placing fresh bandages on her newly cleaned wounds. "See he's got ya up t' it as well, hm? That's fine then." She sighed, "My life could do with a bit o' saving."

"Rebecca," Robin said, trying to regain her attention, "How did you end up in the forest? You've never even ventured out past Locksley." He lowered his head to whisper to her, "Who did this to you. Was it Gis--"

"No." Rebecca snapped, cutting Robin off before he could finish his thought, "Although he might as well have. It was Isabella."

"Isabella?!" Robin repeated. "Why would she do this to you?"

"Oh come on, Robin." Rebecca grimaced, "Why do ya think? I was in the way."

"I should have known something like this would have happened." Robin muttered, shaking his head angrily. "I should have gotten you out of Locksley a long time ago."

"Like I would have gone with ya."

Robin slammed his head onto the wooden side of the bunk just above the one Rebecca was lying on, "I know you've always hated me, Rebecca, but I could have at least tried to keep you out of danger."

"Is that what ya think, Robin?" Rebecca asked, the spite falling from her eyes. "That I hate ya?"

"You've made it clear since I was a boy how much you despised me." Robin said.

"Then for that I am sorry." Rebecca whispered. Slowly she reached up and took hold of the young man's arm. "Ya never deserved that."

"I'm not a child anymore, Rebecca." Robin protested, "I understand why."

"No, ya don't." Rebecca said firmly, "Ya were a boy, nothing that happened was ever your fault. I was a child then as well, an' I was blinded by own grief I never thought t' help ya in yours. I never hated ya, Robin."

Robin patted her hand gently, "You should get some rest."

"How long do ya think it'll be before I can be on my way again?" Rebecca asked as Robin rose to his feet. The rest of the gang was returning to the camp and she could see that Robin no longer wished to discuss his past whilst they were around.

Tuck answered for her, "Not for another week at the most."

"You know you are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish." Robin offered.

"I can't accept that, Robin." Rebecca said, "I have t' go back t' Nottingham."

"I just finished bandaging these wounds," Tuck grunted, "And now you want to see my work go to waste? It's a death trap to go back there, if Isabella wants you dead."

"I have t' go back." Rebecca said, "I intend t' make her pay for what she did."

"You?" Robin said, startled at the hate in her voice, "What would you do? You aren't a fighter, Rebecca, and you wouldn't dare harm Gisborne's sister."

"She took everything from me." Rebecca snarled, "And I am _sick_ of not fighting. I've never fought for anything in my life. I've been a coward an' a fool. Not anymore. Isabella is already dead. What I've seen is no more than a demon come t' take her place. She'll destroy this shire. Ya know it too...I can see it in your eyes."

"I know that Isabella is a dangerous woman. Far too dangerous for you to take her down on your own." Robin said, pacing.

"No one alive knows her better than me."

"Which is exactly why you should stay with us." Robin said.

Rebecca laughed, "What? Ya want me t' be part o' your little band o' merry outlaws? Get out..."

"I'm serious, Rebecca. We could use you."

"I've been used. No thanks."

"Isn't it better than being alone?"

"I'm not afraid o' that."

"Yes you are, Rebecca." Robin said, "And if I didn't know any better I'd say you wandered into Sherwood hoping you'd find us."

"I was trying t' escape!"

"You were dying! I'm offering you a second chance. We want the same thing, help us destroy Isabella. After that you could be free to do as you wished." Robin insisted, "What else do you have to lose?"

Rebecca stared up at Robin, her dark eyes darting from side to side as she calculated what Robin said. He had a point. What could she do against the Sheriff of Nottingham and her stronghold? She would be crushed. She had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to. Her pride rallied against the idea of serving under Locksley again, but her common sense told her to take this chance. She could learn how to fight, she would never be helpless again. It would not be forever, just until she saw Isabella lose everything she had lost...then she could be free.

Robin must have seen the change in her eyes, for he smiled at her. Rebecca nodded, "All right." she croaked, "I'll help you for now, but I'm warning ya, I don't guarantee I'll stay. I may still leave tomorrow."

"Good enough." Robin said, "Now, my friend, get some rest. We will have our work cut out for us once you are fully healed."

***

By the end of the week, Rebecca seemed to be on the road to making a full recovery. Although her physical health was improving, she did not make any effort to befriend any of the other members of Robin's gang. She hardly spoke to anyone apart from Robin or Much. The others regarded her as a reluctant member and walked about her as if at any moment she might turn on them. Kate was especially untrustworthy of the newcomer, viewing her as a spy rather than an extra comrade. At times Rebecca felt she hadn't left Locksley, as she was still regarded with the same cool and questioning looks and she still heard the whispered slanders to her reputation. Surprisingly she did not mind at all. She had a goal in mind and they would help her whether or not they liked her and that was all that truly mattered.

Tuck had been showing Rebecca how to make arrows when Allan came running back into camp. Rebecca had been a bit annoyed, as she felt at least someone in the gang was making an effort to try and trust her and now that moment had been ruined.

"Everyone! Quick, hurry!" Allan panted as he ran up the slope which led into the camp, "Robin's in trouble! Robin's fighting Gisborne over the hill. Don't know who else is there, come on."

The gang mobilized with frightening speed, grabbing whatever weapons lay closest to them. Rebecca rose to her feet to join them, but Tuck placed a hand upon her shoulder. "It's too dangerous for you."

"I can fight!" Rebecca protested.

"Not yet you can't, and you've only just recovered from your last injuries. Wait here. We'll be back." That was the final word as soon, Tuck ran out to join the others.

Rebecca sat down upon one of the bunks a scowl fit to bring down thunder darkened her face. She would have rebelled against the order if she hadn't understood why she had been asked to stay behind: they didn't trust that she wouldn't side with Guy in the fight. Well, he meant nothing to her. She would show them that. She would do as they asked. With the greatest control she urged herself to sit perfectly still and wait, like the good servant she was, for her masters to return.

She did not have to wait long, for soon the rest of the gang was returning. Rebecca sprang from the bunk and dashed over to them. "What happened?" She asked Allan, who was the first to make his way back into the camp. "Is everyone all right?"

"Why don't you go and ask your master?" Kate spat, fire in her eyes as she shoved her way past the both of them.

Confused for only a moment she looked up to see Robin and Guy enter the camp. Ice fell down her spine as she beheld her former master. He did not see her immediately, but when he did he froze as well. A most unreadable expression crossed over his face. One thought was passing through her startled mind:

"You're alive."

They had both spoken at once. Surprised to have been thinking the same thought they both fell silent. Vaguely, Rebecca could feel the gang's eyes on them. Contrition clouded Guy's eyes, "Becca..."

Without thinking, Rebecca punched him as hard as she could. Guy did nothing to block the sudden blow and he accepted it without protest. Rebecca could not stand the sorry look in his eyes. Feeling insulted that he should look at her with such pity she hit him again. This time she felt Robin take hold of her arms and restrain her.

"Let her go." Guy said.

"Don't ya tell him how t' handle me!" Rebecca shouted.

"Rebecca, enough." Robin urged, struggling to maintain his grip on the woman. "He's with us now."

Rebecca could not believe her ears. Guy and Robin were mortal enemies, how in the world could Robin say that Guy was with him? The last she had known Guy was on the run from Isabella. She had never wanted to see him again. "Then consider me gone." She said, furiously, "I'll not stay while he's here."

"At least listen to me." Robin said, "Things have changed...I need to explain. Then you can decide whether to stay or to go."

She stared up at Guy, already she could see a bruise forming under his eye where she had struck him. "Fine." She muttered as Robin released her. He walked back into the camp to address the rest of his gang, leaving Rebecca and Guy alone at the entrance.

"It was Isabella." Guy blurted out, "I...I know you never spied for Robin. Isabella gave me the outlaw's tag...it was her. Not you."

Rebecca laughed, feeling her heart pierced with a hot needle at the realization that Isabella's betrayal went even deeper than she thought, "And ya think telling me this is gonna make everything all right? What? Ya think I'll forgive ya?"

"Robin told me how he found you in the forest..." Guy said, he had never seen her look at him with such hatred before. He knew he deserved this. "Are you...are you all--"

"Oh spare me, like ya care anyway." Rebecca interrupted. "You're not my master anymore. I don't have t' listen t' your insincere words."

"Becca, please--"

"Don't ya speak t' me." Rebecca snapped, turning back around to re-enter the camp. "Robin may have a use for ya, but I don't. Ya can go t' hell for all I care, bastard." Nothing, she thought as she walked away, had ever felt more satisfying in her life.

**_1187_**

"How are you fairing, my girl?" Gemma asked of her daughter.

"Keeping my head down an' out o' sight." Rebecca answered, although her voice was trembling. She had recently been assisting the other servants in helping to move in their new master's personal belongings.

Rebecca had her arms crossed to hide the fact that her hands were shaking. "Maybe he won't notice we're here." She said. Her voice faltering as she tried to laugh.

"You don't want to see him?" Gemma seemed surprised.

"Mum...I...I've tried not t' think o' him. I was forgetting...I don't know." She admitted, her dark eyes swimming with unshed tears.

Gemma pulled her shaking daughter into an embrace. Rebecca clung to her mother like a frightened child. "Why did he have t' come back?" She cried. "Seeing him again...it's like--"

"Feeling the loss o' him all over again?" Gemma said.

Rebecca answered with wrenching sobs, which she tried to minimize. She held her mother like she had never done before. For the years which they had spent in Locksley, Rebecca had been distant towards her mother. Now it was as if none of that anger and spite had ever occurred. There was only this emptiness; a wound which had been poorly stitched into forgetfulness.

"Maybe ya should speak t' him." Gemma whispered.

"No!" Rebecca wailed, "I couldn't. What would I say?"

"Since when have you ever been lost for words?" Gemma said, wiping away her daughter's tears.

"What if he does not remember me? I couldn't bear that, mother."

"Nonsense. If that boy does not remember you I'll come and give him such a flogging...an', my girl, I can guarantee ya he'll remember me." Gemma said.

Rebecca smiled through her fading tears. "Do ya really think it wise t' speak t' him, mum? He didn't seem t' have any patience for any o' the servants when he arrived." She frowned, "He was so..._hateful_. It was like staring at a stranger. I wouldn't have known he was the same boy unless someone had said his name. It frightens me, mum."

"Aye, an' me too, but do ya really think he would refuse listening t' ya once he realized who you are?" Gemma asked.

"I don't know. It's been so long..." Her throat tightened and her voice emerged like a thin groan, "when I think what must have happened t' him..."

"Don't, Becca, I'd rather ya not." Gemma said.

"I can't help it. I think those nightmares have always been with me I've just tried not to think o' them. Mum, he was my friend...he was the father o' my..." She could get no further with that final thought. Her legs gave out from under her at the mention of her child.

Gemma caught her and steadied her. Rebecca gripped her sleeve, "I can't tell him o' that. I can't!"

Gemma hushed her, rocking her back and forth. "No one ever said ya needed to, my girl." She said soothingly, "You can say only what you want to."

After her tears ceased, Rebecca pulled away from her mother, "I think I do want t' see him." She whispered.

"Then, my girl," Gemma said, wiping at the tear stains with her handkerchief, "You had best make yourself more presentable."

***

It had been no easy task attempting to catch Sir Guy of Gisborne alone. He had been steadily making his way about the manor all day; surveying what he now owned. Rebecca had been following him, waiting for a moment when she might catch him alone. That opportunity; however, seemed unlikely to occur. With each passing second, Rebecca was losing her confidence in approaching him. What should she say, if she was capable of saying anything at all?

She followed him into the small chapel, which was connected to one of the private rooms reserved for the lord of manor's use. She strayed back aways, thinking maybe he had spotted her. With her back to the wall she quickly tried to run through a list of words she might say. She mustn't be too informal, for what if he did not remember her. Could she feign becoming lost? That wouldn't make any sense at all...

She peered into the chapel and realized that Guy was no longer inside. Curious at his disappearance she stepped into the room, looking around hesitantly.

"Looking for someone?"

Rebecca jumped and turned about at the sound of the mocking voice. Guy was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, a smirk playing about the edge of his lips. "You," he said as he casually stepped into the chapel, "have been following me."

"I...I..." All the carefully rehearsed words were flying right out of her head as she backed away from him.

"Go on," Guy urged, in no rush to punish her. He seemed eager to hear her explanation. He knew she had no where to go, "tell me why you were so insistent on pursuing me. Did someone order you to do it?"

Rebecca shook her head fervently, "N-n-no one asked me t' do anything, master."

She saw a look of hesitation cross over his face, as if he was trying to remember something. This only lent him new speed. Rebecca tried to back away, but Guy managed to grab her arm, holding her in place none too gently. Rebecca turned her head away in fright that he might strike her for her impudence.

"Look at me." He ordered.

She did so, her dark eyes staring into his searching blue ones. "Do I know you?" He asked her.

"I should hope so, master." Rebecca whispered, feeling her senses return to her once she realized she was in no danger from him now.

Guy released her arm, and now it was his turn to take a step back in shock, "Becca?"

She wanted to cry. Her lips trembled, and her vision blurred. She wanted to throw her arms about him and sob. Instead she smiled as she nodded her head so violently the world was forced to dance before her eyes, "I...I didn't mean t' follow ya." She admitted, feeling laughter bubbling up to the surface, "I just wanted t'...talk t' ya. See if ya remembered me."

"How could I forget?" He found himself saying. Although he had forgotten she would have been in Locksley. He had known that for years, and he had tried so hard to put that knowledge aside. Looking at her now, he could almost picture her as she was all those years ago. The same dark eyes, and the same warm smile.

For just a moment he let his guard slip. The shock of finding her again must have caused it. Guy embraced his old friend, clutching her tightly. He could hear her surprised gasp, but soon her arms were about him as well. Neither spoke, but neither wanted to. Rebecca rested her head against his chest, eyes closed as she tried to still the wave of tears which threatened to drown her. Every emotion which she had tried to suppress and forget came rushing back as if they had never had an excuse to be shut out. It was altogether too easy to slip into this familiar love.

Far from pushing her away once he realized what he had done, Guy held her too him all the tighter. No one was going to walk in on them here, they could remain hidden here for as long as they wanted to. He could feel her heaving deep and hitching breaths. He smirked as she saw her give her head a little shake, something he remembered her always prone to do when she was trying not to cry. The smile died on his lips as he remembered also how Rebecca had truly wound up in Locksley. At this memory he did push her away. Every forced hatred flooded him. She should have never gone to Locksley, but she had fled to safety rather than wait for him to take her with him. This separation and this painful reunion was her doing. She was responsible for this.

"Guy?"

He winced at the sound of his name on her lips. "Do not call me by my name." He realized only after the words had left his mouth, how harsh they sounded.

Rebecca nodded, understanding him regardless of how rough the order sounded. He had most certainly changed. There was something dark surrounding him now. He was no longer the shy and gentle young boy she had known. There was a blackness in his soul and it was easy to see it written in his eyes.

"You should get back to the others. They will have, no doubt, noticed you are missing." Guy said.

"I don't care about the others." Rebecca scoffed.

"That was not a suggestion." Guy snapped.

Rebecca was used to being given orders, but never from Guy and never so forcefully. She thought he had been as overjoyed to see her as she had been him. What was he thinking? He looked pained. Even now she was amazed at how clearly she could still read him, things had not changed that much at least.

"Go." He ordered.

She did not want to leave him. It was a miracle she had been able to see him again and all she wanted was to be with him now and she could see that was all he wanted as well, so was he denying himself of this simple indulgence? She wanted to ask him why, but he had just ordered her not to use his name and it felt to strange to refer to him as her master just yet. Perhaps he just needed time. She nodded and walked out of the room.

"Becca."

She turned around, meeting Guy's confused stare. "I..." His arms were tight against his side, as if to stop himself from reaching for her again. He shook his head, gesturing for her to leave him, which at last she did.

As soon as she was out of eyesight and earshot she let out a rush of breath. Tears swiftly followed. She placed a hand over her heart to still its rapid beating. Guy was back. She did not know what she had done to deserve this second chance, but she thanked God a thousand times for the blessing; _and dear Lord help me_, she prayed, _but I love him still.

* * *

_

**A/N: Now is where we hit that interesting turn of events in which Guy joins up with Robin and the gang. Obviously in this story Robin has to deal with not one, but two misfit members of his gang. What's ahead? A misunderstanding, a rescue, a fight, several misunderstandings explained, a battle, and an inevitable end. I'm not sure how many chapters I have left until the final one for this story, but I am planning on it not being very many. Of course there is the off chance I might be lying. **

**And the flashbacks are going to take on an interesting new perspective as we are finally going to see what Guy was thinking during those first few months he is reunited with Becca in Locksley. Perhaps his attitude towards her might be fully explained? And how is Becca going to react to Marian? You'll just have to read and find out.  
**


	23. Rage

XXIII

Rage

There could have been any number of decent explanations for Guy's sudden appearance at the camp. There could have been several reasonable and necessary explanations. No one could have predicted the actual cause.

Rebecca was sitting just outside of the camp where Robin found her. His bow was slung across his shoulder and he looked as if he was about ready to leave. He sat down beside her. Rebecca gave him a passing glance and little shake of her head. Her eyes were tired and even though she had been as surprised as the rest of the gang, she looked as if nothing could ever astonish her again.

"Bound for York?" She asked him.

Robin nodded, "You of all people should understand why I have to go."

"Oh, no. I do." Rebecca said, "Believe me I do. It is just...you an' Guy...a brother..." She hung her head as she searched for the words, "I do not know how this can be."

"Then you and I are thinking the same thoughts." Robin admitted.

"My mum would have known. She would have. Ghislaine never kept anything from her..."

"My own father never told me." Robin said, "Even if Ghislaine told Gemma, she would never have breathed a word of it, depend on it."

"I want to come with ya."

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's too dangerous," He raised a hand to still the onslaught of indignant words, "And you will be needed here more. Besides, I think it best if you and Gisborne remain separated for now."

She glowered at him briefly before relenting, "I understand..."

Robin rose to his feet, but before he could leave her side, Rebecca caught him by the arm, "Take care, Robin, an'...look after Guy. I mean...just make sure that..."

"We'll keep ourselves out of trouble." Robin winked.

"An' don't ya dare tell him I said that!" Rebecca hissed as Robin walked away laughing softly.

***

Rebecca went with the gang quietly and complacently for most of the day. She helped them drop off money and food in the village. The look on the peoples' faces when they recognized her pleased her immensely. These were the same people who had distrusted her and slandered her name all her life and now they looked at her as if she was their beloved saviour. Some doubted her at first, but when they saw how the rest of the gang called her name and urged her on, they took note. Some even apologized and it was then Rebecca realized just how long and how much she had truly hated these people. People that she had no right to judge or despise, and this was what silenced her. Robin had been right to order her to stay with the gang.

The satchel she carried on her back was considerably lighter than it had been that same morning. She was still constantly readjusting it as at times the bag would rub up against the bandages on her back. She was determined not to be slowed down by her injuries, though and so she did not alert anyone to the slight amounts of pain she had been feeling.

"Robin working with Gisborne could help us." Tuck said, and it was then they all realized how silent they had all been. "He'll share the power of Robin Hood and the nobility of our cause, and he can change his enemy into his friend."

"How?" John asked, the hatred simmering in his voice, "The people of Locksley hate him. The people of Nottingham hate him."

"Everyone hates him." Kate said.

"I'll thank you not to put words in my mouth." Rebecca retorted without thinking. Kate turned about to glare at her. Rebecca merely scowled and averted her eyes.

"Robin doesn't seem to care about the crimes that he's committed." John went on.

"He's bring us Gisborne and he's bringing us his brother to fight alongside. We are striving not just to protect Nottingham, but England—not to settle old scores, John."

"It's not about settling scores, Tuck. It's about _justice!_"

"If Robin feels he can work with Gisborne then--"

"Then Robin is wrong!" John shouted as he threw his satchel onto the ground. "We fight to protect people from animals like Gisborne! Kate's brother was murdered by Gisborne and he hasn't been punished!"

"And I'm prepared to trust Robin!" Kate said, but doubt was heavy in her eyes.

John stared at her in horrified disbelief, "What? If Robin can bring Gisborne into our forest and call him one of us...." He could not bring himself to finish his thought. He merely shook his head and walked away, throwing his staff down in dismay.

The gang watched as he walked away, no one tried to call him back. The air was thick with doubt and Rebecca was almost certain that on some level they all agreed with what he had said. Looking from face to disappointed face, Rebecca decided to play the part of the ignorant one and go about her duties. She stepped forward and took up John's fallen satchel and threw it across her back with the other one.

"You don't have to do that." Tuck said.

"Can't leave it here, can I?" Rebecca said, "Still have to stop over at Locksley, mouths to feed. Isn't that what we do."

"Yeah. It's what _we_ do." Kate said, tugging the extra satchel off of Rebecca's back and taking the load herself. "You're just here 'cause Robin felt sorry for you! He only let you stay because you needed care. You're not exactly useful to our cause."

"You said you were ready t' trust Robin just now. What, you'll defend Guy but not me? I'm worse am I?" Rebecca spat, genuinely surprised by the outburst.

"Oh don't try an' pretend that you're offended. You were always so high an' mighty. Just 'cause you shared that monster's bed you thought you were better than all of us."

"Kate!" Allan warned.

"God ya lot from Locksley sure are thick aren't ya?" Rebecca said contemptuously, "Never bothered t' get your facts straight."

The two were circling each other now and Allan and Tuck took up positions to halt any fights that would occur.

"You can't deny it." Kate said, "I heard you babbling about a son when you were first brought to the camp. Well, I've never seen your little bastard Gisborne in the village...sent him off to a nice family did you?"

Kate was on the ground before she knew what had hit her. Rebecca grabbed the stunned woman and lifted her up and before she could react she had her pinned against the tree. Kate laughed, "Insulted your reputation have I?" She kicked Rebecca away from her, but Rebecca tackled her to the ground and the two tussled wildly down over the hillside.

Tuck and Allan ran down to catch up with them, roaring and shouting for them to stop. Rebecca would not stop. Not now. She was like a wild animal, attacking blindly. "Ya want t' know about my reputation?" She challenged as she swung at her, "I was a servant t' a great and noble family. My father was the manservant t' the lord o' the manor and his greatest friend. He went t' war with him and he died with him. He taught me loyalty an' how t' protect those that I loved! An' I did. I became friends with the master's son. His battles were mine, an' mine his!" She gave a cry as Kate jabbed her in the back, she fell to her knees, but she lunged and knocked the woman over onto her back.

"One by one I saw his people turn their backs on him. He was made an outcast by those he only ever tried t' help. He was taken from me, and I didn't fight for him! He was my life an' I didn't fight for him! An' ya...all o' ya mocked me an' called me whore, disloyal, slut, an' coward. So," Rebecca shouted throwing Kate against a tree and pining her against it, "perhaps ya think it's my divine punishment my son was taken from me, too? My son...my innocent little child...would ya have condemned him along with his father?!"

Tuck pulled her off of Kate, holding her arms behind her back. "Rebecca! Rebecca, that's enough...enough!"

Kate backed away gasping, blood dripping down her lips. She wiped at it with the back of her hand, staring at the wild-eyed Rebecca.

"If I hear ya mention my son again I'll kill ya." Rebecca swore. She shrugged out of Tuck's grasp and righted herself. The three remaining members of the gang stared at her as if at any moment she would turn on them. "I am _not_ useless." She said, wiping blood away from a cut above her eye as she turned to walk away back up the path.

"You're bleeding!" Kate said.

"Yeah?" Rebecca replied, "So are you." She then promptly collapsed, a thick, dark stain steadily spreading along her back....

***

When Rebecca awoke she was back in the outlaw's camp. She gave a small groan and sat up, feeling the weight of fresh bandages push against her chest and back. She was surprised to find Kate standing over her. Rebecca glared up at her, "What d'ya want?"

"I...I wanted to apologize. For what I said to you...it was uncalled for." Kate stammered.

Rebecca was nonplused, "Apologize? Who put ya up t' it? Tuck?"

"Look, I don't have to like you an' I'm not saying I'm ever going to, but I crossed a line. I should never have spoken—I...it wasn't my place to judge you." Kate said.

"No, it wasn't." Rebecca agreed, "but I overreacted...there was no need t' hurt you."

"You did pack quite a punch there." Kate admitted, touching the bruise forming above her cheekbone.

Rebecca actually managed a laugh in spite of herself, "You're one t' talk." She gestured towards her black eye. "If Tuck an' Allan hadn't been there ya would have killed me."

"You're joking. You would have killed me!" Kate giggled.

The laughter suddenly vanished.

"Still don't like you." Kate spat suddenly, moving away from the bunk, crossing her arms.

"Good. Glad o' it. Don't like ya so much either." Rebecca retorted, turning away from the woman.

As soon as silence once again settled over the camp a rushed shout from outside alerted the gang's attention. John and Allan came running into the camp. There was no time for friendly greetings, "Robin's in trouble!" John said, "Isabella's on her way to York with her guards."

The gang assembled themselves with no further urging. Rebecca sprang to her feet as well.

"We'll have to cut across the forest if we want to catch up with her." Allan said as the gang circled up to hear the plan.

"I should tell you to stay in the camp." Tuck said to Rebecca.

"Just ya try." Rebecca said, "Besides, Robin told me t' stay with ya...he never said anything 'bout staying in the camp. I'm going with ya."

"You'll need a weapon then." Tuck said, "Here."

Rebecca took the short sword from Tuck. She held the sword aloft, staring wonderingly at the blade, having never held one of her own before. "I don't know how t' use it." She said.

"Let's hope you won't have to. Come on then."

Accepting scabbard and belt, Rebecca felt like a true forester now. She took off with the rest of the gang. So they still did not accept her fully, but at least they realized she could fight as well as any of them. She could hear dull warning bells in her head telling her that this was not right. She was not a fighter, she couldn't raise a hand to kill anyone; but there was another louder and more reckless voice in her head urging her on. All the anger and all the fear and hatred were rising to the surface. She wanted to feel a little of that chaos to drown the sorrow out.

From over the crest of the hill she could see Isabella and her train of soldiers riding out. If she had had her way she would have ran down and fought them all, but she knew she had to listen to the others. Following Tuck's orders they gang hid themselves. Allan notched an arrow to his bow, a string was tied to the arrow. At Tuck's signal Allan released the arrow, tripping up two of the soldiers. This caught Isabella's attention. At once the gang attacked.

Blood pounded in Rebecca's ears as she shot out of her hiding place. She attacked the remaining guards with blind energy. She used her sword more like a battering ram than a blade and a sick and marvellous energy devoured her heart as she fought. They managed to unseat Isabella from her horse and Rebecca could see her staring at her in shock. Rebecca pointed her sword at her and smiled. She even laughed as Isabella ran away from the scene of the skirmish.

The gang rounded up the rest of the horses and soon they were riding off to York.

***

Rebecca had never been so far out of Nottingham before. She felt a crashing wave of freedom sweep over her. She had to fight to remain in line with the rest of the gang as she rode. She wanted to ride as far and as fast as she could towards the looming grey walls of the city, but she had to remain calm and collected. Already she had been warned to keep close to the others. They had to rescue Robin and Guy. Didn't she want to make sure they got out of York alive, they asked her? If only they knew that her entire life had been a series of rescues, and each time she had managed to save Guy. So now there were soldiers and battles and blood, it was all the same in her eyes.

They dismounted as soon as they entered the city and it became apparent where the crowds were heading towards: a public execution. The gang blended in with the general populace and made their way towards the spectacle. Rebecca could clearly see Robin and Guy, accompanied by a third stranger. They were sitting atop three horses as the nooses dangled ominously overhead. Before a plan could be set into motion, an explosion rocked the town square. Smoke filled the air and Rebecca had to cover her mouth to keep from choking.

Kate grabbed her by the arm to keep from losing her as the gang used the chaos to their advantaged. As the smoke cleared the third man had already disappeared from his perch, leaving Guy and Robin to their own devices. Robin had managed to get down from the horse and Kate cut through his bonds. It was then Rebecca realized that Guy could not escape so easily, not with the noose already about his neck.

"Robin!" Rebecca shouted.

Turning to see the problem, Robin raised his bow and arrow and shot at the rope. It came away and Guy immediately swung himself off the horse. Rebecca ran towards him. He seemed surprised to see her. "Is this a rescue?" He asked her.

His amusement rankled her. Rebecca merely unsheathed her sword and cut through the bonds tying his hands together. "Don't flatter yourself." She said, "If it had been up t' me I'd have let ya swing." And then she was away again, helping to clear an escape path with the rest of the gang.

Seeing that their horses as well as a few of the guards' had been left unwatched, Rebecca stole the moment to lead the animals away from the battle. She would take them to the city gates and the gang could meet her there. She saw the others take off in the same direction. Gripping the reigns of the horses she led them along. She was nearly bowled over as a man rode directly passed her. She recognized the stranger as the man who was due to be hanged along with Robin and Guy. She had the suspicion that this was the fabled brother she had so recently heard of. Why wasn't he with the rest of the gang?

She turned down the corner to see the others. She whistled, getting their attention. "Right then, you lot, I'd say it's about time we disappeared."

Wild shouts from beyond the alley alerted the gang that soldiers were following hard on their heels. Without further delay the group were quick to mount their horses. Rebecca was about to mount her own when an arrow flew past over head, startling the animal. The horse reared up in fright at the sudden attack. Rebecca did not have time to still the creature. Seeing the soldiers charging towards her, Rebecca could feel the familiar sickening thrill rise in her. She drew her sword and rushed at them, thinking to buy the others a bit more time. This was easy, she thought as she used the hilt of her sword to knock out of the men.

"Rebecca!" Robin shouted.

"I can catch up." Rebecca yelled.

"Is she mad?" Allan said, "They'll kill her."

One of the soldiers had already knocked the sword from Rebecca's hands. She tried to defend herself with her fists alone. She dodged a few strikes from a sword, but felt her arm sting as one sliced inches from her shoulder.

Breaking away from the gang, Guy rode towards the soldiers. Rebecca was blind to the charge until she was swept up and thrown across the horse like a sack of grain. "What are ya doing?" She roared as Guy rode back to the rest of the gang and they sped from the city.

Rebecca continued shouting curses at Guy for dragging her away until they were significantly down the road away from York. "What were you thinking?" He shouted at her, hauling her up so that she could properly situate herself on the horse, "Were you trying to get yourself killed?!"

"I was fine!" Rebecca screamed, "I had everything under control!"

"Five guards, Becca, you thought you could go up against five highly trained soldiers?!"

"Don't ya try an coddle me. An' let me down. I'll not ride with ya." Rebecca said struggling.

"Then walk. Robin won't bother waiting for you and neither will I. Let's see you find your way back to Nottingham without us." Guy shrugged.

"Insufferable bastard!"

"Believe me, Becca, the feeling is mutual." Guy said.

He pulled her tight against his chest to stop her from struggling. This did nothing to silence her; however, and for the rest of the way back to Nottingham she muttered the most creative curses Guy had ever heard.

When they arrived back in Sherwood night had already fallen. All were exceedingly relieved to see the camp again. Before entering; however, the gang let the horses go so as not to leave tracks leading straight into the canyon where their camp was located. Guy and Rebecca promptly separated, both going in opposite directions of the camp and depositing themselves in either corner like brooding children.

Noticing the darkening mood, Robin had a word with Tuck.

"She's a loose arrow, Robin." Tuck said honestly, "Starting fights within the group and running straight into danger without fear of the consequences. I'm sorry, Robin, but she won't be able to stay if she continues to behave like this."

"This isn't like her." Robin said, "I know Rebecca. She can be a bit sharp at times, but she's not violent."

"Tell that to Kate. She wanted to kill her earlier." Tuck said. "I understand that she's angry, and she has every right to be, but she won't trust us, Robin. She'll fight because she's hurt, but she won't fight for us, and I doubt she would listen to anything I could tell her."

"I know someone she would listen to." Robin said.

"No, Robin. I know what you're thinking." Tuck warned.

"It doesn't matter what I think of Gisborne, or how any of us think of him." Robin said, "He and Rebecca were friends once, and she needs him." He sighed, "I'm putting them both on midnight watch and they can work this out between the both of them."

"And if they don't?" Tuck asked.

"I can't afford to have us divided. Rebecca either learns to trust us, or I'll have no choice, she'll have to leave."

**_Early Summer, 1173_**

It was hard navigating her way through the woods in the dark. The moon was a thin crescent, and hardly any light trickled down through the blocky trees which now rose like looming giants in the shadows. Rebecca tripped and tumbled her way through the forest until she found her way to the thicket closest to the river. Parting the undergrowth which led into the nest of leaves and ferns she stumbled into the green-grey of the dark wood.

She could hear the steady trickle of the stream which met with the river at the edge of the wood. The sound, which was usually so soothing was now a source of agitation as she waited alone in the dark. She hugged herself. She was tired and sore from running about so late in the night and crashing her way clumsily through a dark wood. There was no sign of Guy. If he had led her on a wild chase to nowhere...

"Becca?"

She whirled about to see a shadowy figure part the foliage and enter into their shelter. "You came." He almost seemed surprised.

Rebecca had never had a cause to be so righteously angered with him in all her life. As soon as he came close enough she gave him a forceful shove backwards. "Don't ya ever think t' order me about like that again! An' where d'ya think ya had the right t' question my feelings for ya? I shouldn't have t' go traipsing about in the middle of the night just t' make ya believe in my friendship."

"Is it so hard to prove your loyalty to me?" Guy said.

"Don't ya dare question my loyalty t' ya!" Rebecca shouted, eyes burning.

"Then why were you so willing to give up our friendship before?" Guy challenged.

"I didn't mean that! I thought only o' ya. I was trying t' protect ya. The servants gossip already an' I know the villagers do too. What if they suspect...what if they think that..."

"I don't care what they think." Guy said.

"I know that's a lie. You've always cared." Rebecca snapped, "Ya always did everything ya could for them. They don't care. No matter how many times ya try an' help them they'll never like ya, Guy!"

"I don't need them to like me, but I will be their master and they will _learn_ to respect me." Guy said.

"Not if ya don't fight for it, they won't. Ya have t' start acting like a noble's son or they'll see ya as a foolish an' spoiled child."

"Oh, and is that how you see me?" Guy snapped.

"Ya know I that I don't!"

"Then why do you think I need constant reminding of it? Every day, Becca, you state the consequences of what would happen if we were found out. You don't think I don't know? You didn't used to be this way. You used to not care about the others. I want your help not your spite. I want you, I...I..." He fidgeted uncomfortably, "I need you."

This declaration silenced Rebecca. All the anger ebbed away from her. She felt her body unwind like a tightly wound coil, "I need ya too, Guy." She whispered.

There was a steady silence for a time before Rebecca gave a small chuckle, "I don't think we've ever fought before."

Guy shook his head. "Becca, you know I don't really doubt your friendship..."

"I know. I'm afraid of losing ya too." Rebecca admitted, fitting her arms about him.

"Now," She sighed happily, "Can we go back home? It's late an' I'm tired."

The two walked back to the manor. All was as they had left it, no one had seemed to notice that they had gone missing. They entered as quiet as mice, careful not to wake anyone. Guy stayed with her as Rebecca went to the servant's quarters. Seeing that everyone was still sleeping, they were in no danger of being caught together.

"Hate this..." Rebecca whispered, as she stood in the doorway with Guy.

"What?"

"Saying good night. Sometimes I want...I think about...staying with ya through the night." She said shyly.

A hot and cold thrill shuddered through Guy. He would be lying to her if he said he had not thought of the same thing on more than on occasion, but he never knew Rebecca had been having similar thoughts.

"Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" She asked hesitantly.

Did she honestly believe he would refuse? "Of course." He said immediately.

Rebecca led him over to her cot, removing her shoes and her dress so that she was clad only in her shift. She lay down upon the cot and Guy lay beside her. He placed an arm about her and she buried herself against him. She held him close to her, but it wasn't enough. Something was lacking, something she couldn't quite understand. She could tell from the way Guy was holding her that he was exerting the same amount of restraint that she was. She forced those burning thoughts from her mind as she tried to settle into sleep. She felt Guy kiss her forehead and smooth back her hair. She smiled into the darkness and gently slipped into sleep. She was blissfully unaware of when Guy had to force himself to leave her.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, that long awaited conversation between Guy and Rebecca is on it's way. I decided to edit it out of this chapter and put it at the start of the next one because I wanted to give it the proper space it needed. The next chapter might be a long time in coming, as school work is piling up and 'tis the season to apply for internships! Wish me luck! :) **

**Also, a few lines of dialogue were taken from S3 ep11, and so they are (c) BBC.  
**


	24. Midnight Watch

**So, five resumes, two cover letters, a mid-term, and several thank you letters later my hellish week is finally over. I have a nice lull in my workload as of now, so I'll be back to working on my fics. :) Hopefully my schedule will pick up again soon and *crosses fingers* I'll be asked to interview for an internship!!

* * *

**

XXIV

Midnight Watch

"I'm going t' leave tomorrow," Rebecca said in quiet contemplation as she stared out at the shadowy forest.

Guy gave a small start. She had not spoken to him for what had felt like a full hour since they had been placed on watch. She had seemed content to sit in silence and purposefully ignore his presence. She did not look at him as she spoke, she was drawing circles in the dirt with a broken branch she had found. Her attention wavered from this activity to watching the road. She never dared to look at him.

"You can't leave," Guy said.

"An' who's going t' stop me? You? Or Robin? No one really wants me here anyway. An' I can't even think here. They want t' help the people, an' I can't bring myself t' care about them. I just want Isabella. I want t' see her ruined. I want her t' hurt...an' I want her t' know it's me who destroyed her. I want her t' look me in the eyes an' see the fool she thought she could be rid of so easily."

"You want to kill her?" Guy asked.

"If that's what it takes."

"You want to kill the girl you watched over for years and cherished like a sister, that's who you want to kill?" Guy restated.

"Why are ya saying that?" Rebecca asked, a tremor in her voice. "That girl is dead t' me."

"Becca, you're not a killer," Guy said, "Stop pretending that you know what it means to take a life."

"An' stop treating me like your servant. This is my choice, Guy," Rebecca said emphatically, stabbing at the dust. "She betrayed me."

"She betrayed us both," Guy said softly, "And I promise you for that she will pay, but it will not be at your hands."

"Then by whose? Yours? Ya won't kill your own sister."

Guy smirked with false humour at the horrified expression which lit up Rebecca's eyes. "I'm damned enough as it is. The sin of killing my own sister will hardly stain me further."

Rebecca looked away from him. A light breeze picked up and tousled her dark hair, unraveling it from the ribbon and kerchief. With a small sigh she removed the kerchief and let down her hair. The dark locks fell like shadows in the night, visible only from the pale light of the moon. Her dark eyes reflected black and when she would turn her head away from Guy she seemed to disappear, swallowed up by the darkness.

She was hunched over, her arms crossed over her chest as she hugged herself to keep out the cold. Whatever she was thinking, it was far too dark to properly read her expressions. She was shrinking up, letting the night pull at her with soft tendrils. Guy had the sudden desire to pull her to him and save her from disappearing entirely, but he had no hope of trying to reclaim her. She was gone from him already.

"It is intolerable," Rebecca grunted.

"What is?"

"Hearing ya call yourself damned. You're not damned, Guy," Rebecca said with tight restraint.

"You do not even believe that, Becca, you have no reason to lie," Guy sighed.

"No. I mean it," Her dark eyes flickered over to him so that he might read the conviction of her words in her face, "Even if ya kill your sister, my heart will have been in it as well. I'll still rejoice over her death. I'll be damned too."

"Don't say that," he winced. "Do you want to blame me for dragging you into hell with me?"

Rebecca let out a breathy laugh, "Oh, Guy," she sighed, "I've already seen hell. I've lived in it for most of my life, and I've never blamed ya."

"Is hell a grave?" Guy asked, "A child's grave?" He did not even have to look at her to feel the sudden agony race through her. It stabbed at him, and this time he could not bring himself to look at her.

He had expected her to rage at him; to leap to her feet and assault him with all manor of words and violence for guessing her secret. Rebecca did neither. She merely slumped a little lower to the ground, her shoulders hunched, as if the strings holding her up had been cut away. Rebecca let the branch drop from her fingers as her hands became useless. "Who told ya?" Was all she said.

"No one," Guy answered, "When I was running from Locksley I found a cross near the border of the forest. I thought it was a sign at first, because I saw my name written on it, but it was my name. Mine and yours."

"Ya know for a long time I was almost glad that ya would never come back to Nottingham? I put ya from my thoughts when I buried my child. When ya returned it was as if ya had unearthed him an' whenever I saw ya I saw my baby." She spoke like a dead woman, distant from her own story.

Realizing that his assumptions had been correct, he turned to face her, "Becca, why didn't you tell me?!"

She was surprised at his emotional response, "It didn't matter," she whispered. "What would have been the point in telling ya, ya had a dead son? How could I have told ya that?"

"How could you not have? You might have told me what he looked like, how he was. For God's sake, Becca, he was my son!"

"Ya want t' know about your son?" Rebecca asked in a whispered breath. "He was born still. Strangled, the midwife said. He should have been safe. I should have been able t' protect him absolutely all those months...I couldn't have even done that. He _died_ before I could even hold him," she shuddered, "It seems so far away now. I can't even bring myself t' grieve over it any longer," her voice shook violently, "He was beautiful, though. So small...he...he had black hair, little wispy tufts o' it an' the tiniest little hands..."

"Becca..."

"Sometimes I wonder what colour eyes he had." Rebecca went on, "I thought maybe they'd be blue like yours, or dark like mine...or maybe even grey like my father's...." she laughed chokingly, "What kind o' mother does that make me? To not even know what colour my own son's eyes were?!" Somewhere in the midsts of her quiet laughter it changed to tears.

Guy tried to embrace her, but he found himself pushed away and held at arm's length. Rebecca covered her mouth with her hand to quiet her sobs, but her eyes were shining with sorrow. "Don't pretend t' care now," she said. "I don't want your pity."

"I should have been there." Guy said, surprised at his own honesty.

"No, no. I'm glad that ya weren't," Rebecca gasped through her tears, "I wouldn't have wanted ya t' see that."

"That doesn't matter. I should have gone back for you. I should have fought for you and I am...sorry." It was so easy to recollect the memories of all those years ago. He remembered how frightened he had been, cast out of his own home, betrayed and condemned by his own people and at a loss as to why his closest friend had suddenly disappeared.

"Isabella told me that ya did," Rebecca said, wiping at her tears, "or was that a lie as well?

"No," Guy said, eyes clouding, "I went back to Gisborne to look for you. The people said you had gone to Locksley." Here was the root of all of the evils he had ever felt towards her. It could all be whittled down to that one moment in time. Even after all the years which had passed, he could never forget the fact that Rebecca had abandoned him that day. He never knew why. He had often wanted to ask her, but he could never admit that he kept his silence because he had been terrified of her answer. What if she had been a coward that day and run off to the safety of Locksley? That was not a truth he could bear to be told and so he had insisted on keeping up with the pretence of a lie, and for that reason alone, he had kept her distant from him.

"That is true."

He wanted to shake her and demand to know why. Why would she throw away years of friendship and loyalty for safety? Should it even matter now after everything that had passed? It did. It burned at him, every betrayal was just another form of Rebecca's unexplainable abandonment. It was every childhood nightmare he had carried with him after he had left England. It was every taint to their relationship and every reason why even now he felt her answer break his heart.

"I tried t' go after ya an' the villagers stopped me. They beat me an' bound me an' when I woke up I was in Locksley tied t' a cot. My mum made sure I was kept roped t' the bed, she was terrified I'd leave her, ya see. I hated her for that, but she was trying t' protect me an'...I understand now, but I can't forgive her for what she did. I wish I had tried t' before she died..."

"You...you were made a prisoner?" He could not believe his ears.

"Suppose. I escaped once...didn't get as far as the village road before I was dragged back."

Guy couldn't speak. All this time she had been in Locksley against her will. She hadn't abandoned him, she had tried to fight for him.

"Guy?" Rebecca noticed the shock on his face. She eyed him curiously, it was a shocking realization to be sure, but his eyes were holding far too much relief and joy for this to be ordinary astonishment. "Ya thought I left ya," she announced, coming to her conclusion.

"Becca, it was more than that, I--"

"No. It's simple." Her voice was deadly quiet, "Ya believed a few treacherous villagers rather than trust that I would _never_ have left ya. My God, Guy are you incapable of trust? What could I have ever done t' ya t' make ya believe I would ever have left ya?"

"I was a boy then, Becca. I had lost everything. I didn't know what to believe, or who to trust."

"_Ya should have trusted me!_" Rebecca shouted. "I was your friend. I helped your father back into the village! I made sure ya an' Isabella would be safe! I did _everything _for ya an' I would have crawled into Hell for ya if ya had asked me. I put my life an' my mother's life at risk. An' ya turned your back on me. Ya may not have known what happened t' me, but I had t' live with the fact that the man I cherished and loved had abandoned me."

There. It was said. She breathed in thick and deep, astounded by her own courage. She looked at him, wanting to see what he was thinking. She would not be moved by him. Even as she saw his eyes swerve to deep contrition. She would not be moved. Even as she saw him give a gentle start at the mention of her having once loved him.

"Forgive me," came the gentlest whisper of regret.

She winced at the sound, "No."

Her fingers curled tight to the ground, she could feel her fingernails ground into the dirt. It would be rather easy to forgive him, but it was far too little and far too late. If they had only spoken of this years ago—even months ago—she would have gladly thrown her arms about him and told him happily she forgave him for everything, but that was when she would have still been a blinded, love-sick fool. Now she could see quite plainly the distrust he had always held her in and the ill regard he had for her. That was not a man she could easily forgive, and while her heart still ached fiercely for him she could not crumble to his will at the slightest mention of forgiveness.

"Perhaps...in time?" Guy asked her.

Rebecca let out a rattling sigh, "Why now, Guy? Why at the end o' everything would ya ask for my forgiveness?"

"I lost you once, and that was my own doing, to not ask you for a chance to bridge this gap between us would truly be unforgivable," he placed his hand atop hers.

Rebecca looked down at their hands intertwined. She could not summon enough feeling to be anymore than lightly curious at the unusual sight. "D'ya mean that?" She whispered, "Ya have played me false before..."

"I swear it," he said fervently.

Very faintly, like a frightened bird flying back to its nest after the hawk has gone, she rested her head upon his shoulder, eyes closing in weariness. Guy wrapped an arm about her and drew her in close, afraid for a moment, she would dart away again back into the empty embrace of the night, but she was still and calm against him.

"Don't go," he whispered to her, staring at her content and sleep-filled face. This was all so very familiar; her beside him, the feel of her in his arms. His mind grew clouded with confusion over the rising turmoil of his guilt and the faded attachment he had towards her.

"I make no promises," she replied, "I may still be gone by morning."

There would be no more orders to give, she was no longer his to control. She had been his friend and she had loved him for all the fact that he had not seen it. He wouldn't fault her if she left. He knew what pain there was in loving someone without hope of reciprocity. He would spare her further pain, if he could. If she left by morning he would not follow, but while night still blanketed the world he would hold her fast to him.

***

When Rebecca awoke next it was back in the camp. She gave a small start, kicking off one of the furs serving as both blanket and mattress. For an instant she did not remember when she had fallen asleep on her watch and what had transpired. As the clouds of sleep faded from her mind, memory returned in full force. She ran a hand through her hair as she reflected on what had occurred.

Turning her head only slightly she could see Guy still sleeping just a few paces away from her. As the two latest recruits to the gang they had been forced to use the small corner space of the camp for a bed. Even in sleep he appeared troubled. He lay tangled in the single blanket covering him, and while now he lay still, Rebecca was certain he had had nightmares visit him.

She pushed the fur blanket off of her and smoothed the front of her dress down over her legs, fingers pushing at wrinkles as she evened the fabric over her knees. She could hear Guy stir beside her.

"You're still here," he stated in raspy voice and bleary eyed wonder.

"'Course I am." Rebecca grunted, "Decided t' stay for now...may still leave tomorrow."

Guy gave her a small smirk as he sat up. He remembered last night vividly, and he was not about to ever forget a word she had spoken to him. Yesterday he had viewed her as a doubtful friend, whose services he had taken for granted. Today they could begin again. He would see those dark eyes light up in a smile that was meant for him again and he would earn her trust and friendship if it was the last thing he did in this mortal world. Was it due to his guilt that he made such promises? It could not be for the quiet joy he felt merely upon seeing her wake, or for the envy in which he viewed her fingers as they ran through her hair?

Rebecca must have noticed his brazen stares and she raised an eyebrow at him. Her expression of callous indifference was a slap to the face. She showed no signs of flattery at his obvious looks. There was no blush on her cheek as she turned away from him. Did she no longer care for him at all, then? Where was the hint of a smile?

The rest of the gang began to come alive as well, and Guy could no longer focus his sole attention upon Rebecca. As soon as Robin came awake, Rebecca went over towards him, meek in her manner and in her steps. She seemed to apologize to him. Robin did not seem very surprised to hear it and he shot a sidelong glance over at Guy, suspecting he would be trying to listen in. He smiled, a very self-pleased grin, and patted Rebecca on the back. She smiled as well and a pang of jealousy coursed through Guy like lightening.

"Right, everyone," Robin announced, clapping his hands together, "we've got four drop points to make today, so I want you all to gather our supplies. I believe it's time we show Gisborne and Rebecca exactly what it is that we do."

Rebecca and Guy exchanged wary and unimpressed looks at Robin's little speech, both feeling very much like roguish children. They went with the others to collect the store of food and money into separate sacks which they would take to Nettelstone, Clun, Locksley and Nottingham Town. Rebecca had done this twice before and could attest to having felt no real pleasure in aiding the poor. The only time she ever found a spark of joy in this menial task was from the grateful faces of the children. It would be interesting indeed, to see how the peasants took to their enemy turned ally.

They went to Locksley first, striding in far more openly than ever before now that there was no fear of soldiers to chase them out. The people, who had even been sceptical of accepting aid from Rebecca were now doubly dumbfounded by the latest member of the gang. For the most part, Guy lingered back and observed the others as they passed out money and supplies to the people.

Before they left the village, Robin tossed Guy a satchel of coins. He caught it deftly, confused as to what Robin meant by handing him the satchel. Robin gestured towards the house before them and the woman hanging wash on the line. At first it appeared that Guy would refuse to do as he was bidden, but, hesitantly, he walked over to the woman.

The woman saw him coming and immediately stopped what she was doing. A look of fright crossed over her face and she looked as if she wanted to run back into her home. Guy raised his hands to show that he meant no harm. He stopped at the fence which ran round the length and width of the small house. Robin and the others stood a few paces behind. The woman was looking over at him warily, Robin nodded at her, as if to tell her she could trust him.

Guy held out his hand, handing her the satchel of coins. The woman looked at it curiously and then back up into the face of the man making the offering. She almost reached out to take it, but instead she took a step back and shook her head. "I'll not accept that," she said, "Not from the likes of you," she swatted the satchel out of Guy's hands.

She expected he would retaliate at the outburst, but Guy had been far from surprised by her reaction. He merely bent down to retrieve the satchel. Tugging at the string tying the bag closed he looped it over one of the fence posts. He shrugged, "Now you don't have to accept it from me," he said callously as he turned to go back to the rest of the gang.

It was a start, a small start. Guy could see that the gang was loath to acknowledge him. Robin gave him a nod, but Guy was looking at Rebecca. She regarded him with a cool expression, but she seemed confused and her gaze wavered from small pride to indifference.

"So," he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "where to next?"

"Nottingham," Robin replied, lifting his bow up and over his shoulder.

As they walked back into the forest, down the path which would lead them to the gates of Nottingham, Guy did his best to keep up with the gang. He couldn't be sure, but he was almost certain they were deliberately walked as fast as they could to leave him lagging always behind. Realizing he was being shut out, he gave the others the satisfaction and lingered behind a pace, not especially caring to walk with them.

Rebecca would occasionally glance behind to look at him, guilt nagging at the pit of her stomach. She stopped for a moment and turned around, very casually, as if she had forgotten something, and walked back towards Guy. He regarded her with a modicum of surprise as she promptly took his hand in hers and fell into step alongside him.

She could feel him staring at her. "Stop it," she said.

"Stop what?" He asked.

"Staring at me," she replied.

"Gladly," Guy said, but he did not avert his eyes, "but you have to permit my curiosity."

"Oh, hush, I only came back for ya out o' pity. Not for any amount o' friendship. So ya can stop it with your thoughts right there," Rebecca snapped.

"Pity? Yes, I can see how you would have thought to have pitied me, but why take my hand then?" He gave her hand a slight squeeze, "Now, most men would assume such an action as a sign of friendship."

"Yes, well," She glared up at him, "you're not most men, are ya?"

"How so?"

"You're...well...you're.....you're mocking me, aren't ya?"

"Yes."

"You're impossible," Rebecca huffed, turning her gaze back to the road.

"You can always go back to your new friends, if that's what you want," Guy shrugged.

Rebecca shot him a sly look and for a moment they walked in silence. Guy could see a smile tugging at the corners of Rebecca's lips. A small giggle escaped her. She tried to conceal it, but her laughter redoubled and she muttered a half hearted apology as she burst into gales of laughter. She gave Guy a playful shove as the remainder of her giggles echoed out of her.

Guy couldn't remember the last time he had heard Rebecca laugh; really laugh. She looked up at him and he could see her eyes sparking with newfound happiness. She may not be ready to forgive him just yet, but this meant she was willing to give him the chance to earn her forgiveness.

She pressed against him as they walked and Guy relished the feel of her against him. He could feel himself awakening to life again; life with a clear purpose and direction. Rebecca brought his hand to her lips and kissed it softly and swiftly. He wanted to stop her right there and bring his lips to hers and kiss her properly, but that would not be wanted. She was still hesitant. She was only just trying to trust him again. He would have to be patient. The two continued to walk hand in hand oblivious to the length of the road, or to the rest of the gang, which they had left far behind.

**_1187_**

"Hasn't even been a month, and I swear she's in love with him."

"Don't be ridiculous. She never looked twice at any man before, you would have thought her as a chaste as a nun."

"She ain't so holy now, I'll wager."

"Tess!"

"What? I can't speak my mind now, Jenny?"

Two servants, Tess and Jenny, stood over a line of laundry, plucking down the wash and folding them into the two baskets which sat on either side of them.

"You can't go about spreading rumours. If the master decided to take any of us to his bed, we couldn't say no and you know it," Jenny figured, cheeks flushing slightly.

"That's neither here nor there. She's practically _begging_ for it," Tess laughed.

"Oh, like you didn't?" Jenny said, "Don't think I didn't notice when you didn't come back to the servant's quarters with the rest of us two nights ago. We're servant girls, Tess, we're no better than the washing cloths we use to dry dishes. Are you going to spread nasty rumors about me next if the master should start to take me to his bed?"

"Who would take you to their bed? Small and plain as you are," Tess retorted.

"I don't know how the master chose you, loudmouthed and cold as you are," Jenny fired back, nudging her friend.

"Maybe I was a bit harsh," Tess shrugged, thinking back on her words.

"Harsh about what?"

Rebecca came striding over to the two girls and immediately they ducked their heads like children caught stealing from the cupboard. Rebecca frowned. "What's wrong?"

"We were only talking," Jenny said quickly.

"Didn't mean anything, really," Tess finished.

Rebecca eyed the two girls curiously, "There's no law against talking, now. I was just coming t' ask ya if ya wanted help carrying in those two baskets..."

"Oh!" Jenny gasped, "Oh...right..."

"I think we can manage it," Tess said, "Thank you."

"All right then," Rebecca said with a friendly smile. "Ya sure there's nothing you'd like t' tell me?"

"Can't think of a thing," Tess said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Think the heat must be getting t' ya," Rebecca snickered, "Hurry it up now an' come back inside soon."

Rebecca turned, shaking her head at the girls as she made her way back to the manor. She met up with her mother, who greeted her with a slight wave of her broom handle, "What have you been up to, my girl?"

"Was offering t' help carry in the wash, but Tess an' Jenny got it all sorted."

A bit of laughter must have escaped in her words, for Gemma began to eye her daughter in the much the same way Rebecca had been eying Tess and Jenny. "Out with it," she barked. "What's got ya in such a curious mood?"

Rebecca shook her head. "Nothing really, just thinking at how quick the rumors have started again."

"Rumors?"

"Tess and Jenny. The moment I walked over t' them they got as quiet and flustered as mice, and those two are about as quiet as larks. I think they were talking about me."

"An' how is that good cause t' be amused," Gemma said with a scowl marking her face.

"Feels like I'm home," and then Rebecca laughed, leaning against the wall for support.

***

Guy was intent upon ignoring her. Not that his will mattered to much, for she was everywhere in the manor. If he walked down one hallway she would be there sweeping, if he went out to the grounds she would be helping with the wash or speaking to some of the villagers. He wasn't following her, and she certainly wasn't following him. She was rarely alone and when a moment would arise where he could capture a moment of her time he failed to.

She was a servant. Was he really going to focus his attentions onto the likes of her? He had bigger ambitions now. He was no longer a young boy with his life already planned for him. He no longer had the time to befriend one lesser than him. Oh, but she was still striking. Far more refined than she was as a young girl. Yet she was still familiar. Those dark eyes flickered mischievously as ever and those lips curved frequently into her inviting smiles. Ever so often a dark lock of hair would become loose and fall from it's ribbon to bob upon her shoulder and brush into her eyes. She would tuck it back behind her ear diligently every time a strand became too wild.

They had not properly spoken since they had first been reunited and Guy was not entirely certain he should entertain the thought of attempting to speak to her so informally again. She was not his equal, and lest he forget she had chosen to leave him to go to Locksley. While these memories quelled any urges to try and befriend her, it did nothing to stop the rampant desire he felt towards her.

He wanted her. It would be a lie to even believe for a moment that he hadn't wanted her the moment he had laid eyes on her again. In his mind Rebecca already belonged to him. Yet, he couldn't simply take her. It was easy enough to convince some of the other maids to join him in his chambers, but did he even dare treat Rebecca with the same callousness? She might even have the courage to refuse him, still believing they had any amount of friendship towards each other.

A knock on the door interrupted his chaotic thoughts. "What?" He grunted, disinterestedly.

"Master? It's me."

The devil herself. He crossed a few paces over to the door and wrenched it open. Rebecca was standing in the open doorway, balancing a tray of food in her hands, "The others figured ya weren't coming down after a time, so I thought I would bring ya your supper."

"Clearly my absence should have indicated that I was not going to be taking supper," Guy growled.

"Now," Rebecca said, unaffected by his dark tones, "Clearly ya weren't going t' be taking supper, _now_. Later; however, is another matter, and this way it'll save me a trip half way into the middle o' the night."

Knowing that she wouldn't budge unless he let her in, he stepped out of the way and allowed Rebecca to enter his chambers and place the tray down atop the drawers beside the bed. She turned about slowly, tucking one of her stray locks of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. He wanted to tell her to stop doing such a useless motion. She might was well let her hair down and let it fall about her neck and shoulders, and she might as well let him remove the kerchief from about her head so that he might see her better...

"Master, I didn't just come up here t' give ya you're supper," Rebecca said hesitantly.

She wanted something else? It was quite late already, and if she had made up an excuse to tell the other servants then she would have no need to concern herself with how long she need be gone. "You wanted to speak with me," he guessed.

She nodded, "I was hoping t'."

Guy was standing inches away from her. He could almost hear the catch in her breath as she realized how close they were. He saw her hands twitch involuntarily as she nearly reached out to him, or at least he convinced himself that's what she was doing. "Guy..." she exhaled with a whimper of a sigh.

He did nothing to chastise her for using his name. He wanted her to use his name.

"Becca?" He tempted her to speak her piece and be done. His intentions were written clearly in his eyes, what use would it be to hide them from her? She had walked willingly into the wolf's den.

For a moment it appeared all thought had crossed out of Rebecca's mind. She tilted her head up a little, as if to kiss him. Guy smirked, pleased that she was so ready to give up to him so easily, but quietly there was a pounding joy in him. He wanted to be with her again; share his bed with her; hold her and keep her, because, oh, how he had missed her. Those words were on his lips and he could feel his own resolve crumbling faster than he could build a new wall up around it.

He wouldn't get the chance, for Rebecca managed to grab a hold of herself and step back. "There's so much t' say..." she said, her breath hitching, "Guy, you should know...the day you left...my mother an' I...we..."

All tender thoughts were forcefully thrown from his mind. "Don't you dare speak to me about that day!" He hissed low and guttural. The memory of her betrayal came back to him in a painful rush and he cursed himself for believing she could have wanted him. How could he want a little serpent like her?

"I know I shouldn't, but..."

"Get out," he said, flinging open the door for her to take her leave.

"Please, let me explain!"

He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear any cowardly excuses as to why she had gone to Locksley and not gone with him. He didn't want to have every cursed memory thrust upon him again. She did not know how he had dreamed of her having gone with him. How he could have raised her as his equal; how he could have built a life with her; how they could have suffered and endured every hardship together, and how they could have been standing here now, not as master and servant, but as husband and wife. She was a lie, a living lie to his lost hope and family.

"You forget your place, Becca," Guy said, "you believe we are still children. Grow up. The next time you choose to speak with me do not be so presumptuous as to expect me to listen or to care about a word you say."

She could not have looked more painfully shocked if he had slapped her across the face. "F-f-forgive me?" She questioned softly, "I...I thought that..."

"You thought wrong."

Rebecca stood in the doorway, "Master..."

"Hell's Gates, woman! Leave me be!" He roared, shutting the door in her face.

He stood leaning against the door for a time, assuring himself that Rebecca really had left him. He closed his eyes, his mind still insisting upon tormenting him with desire towards the equally beloved and hated figure of his former friend. "Leave me be," he whispered futilely into the empty room, "leave me be..."

* * *

**A/N: I promise one day I'll stop being such a shameless tease and you will get to see these two characters reunite properly. ;) As it is, rejoice in the fact that Guy is beginning to see the light. The next chapter will be up as soon as possible, be on the look out. **


	25. Thicket

**WARNING: This chapter contains explicit material. This story is really the first story I've experimented with explicit sexual material, I'm not even certain if I'm comfortable writing it just yet and so I completely understand anyone's aversion to reading it. **

* * *

XXV

Thicket

The North Road was always carefully watched under the eyes of Robin Hood's gang. At every crossing and intersection there were at least two of them scouting. They looked for anything of importance: messengers, carriages...anything that looked valuable. It was the single greatest highway of goods in Nottinghamshire.

Near the bend in the road hid two members of the gang, a most unlikely and incompetent pair. Rebecca and Kate had been functioning under the pretense that the other absolutely abhorred the other and this seemed to be a system they were happy to work under. Today they had been thrown together and it was clear they would both rather be spending their time with someone, anyone, else.

"We should move further south," Kate suggested.

Rebecca shook her head adamantly. "We were told t' keep an eye on this stretch o' the road."

"Yes, but we've been here for nearly an hour. There's another crossroads a ways if someone's coming up from Locksley?"

"Who would be coming from Locksley?"

"We won't know the answer to that if we keep standing in one place all day long!" Kate sighed, throwing a broken reed at Rebecca's head.

Rebecca swatted the offending plant away. "Fine, have it your way, but it'll be your fault if we come back empty handed."

The two made for the crossroad which led to Nottingham and Locksley Village. Rebecca had fallen behind slightly as they ran and she had been unprepared for when Kate forcefully came to a sudden halt. Rebecca slammed into her and before she could curse her soundly, Kate clamped a hand over her mouth and tackled her to the ground.

When she was certain that Rebecca would not shout, she released her. "What is it?" Rebecca panted.

"Soldiers," Kate said simply. She unsheathed her sword and peered around the bend.

A small group of soldiers, decorated in the colors of the Castle Guard, were making their way up the road. They were fanned out, weapons drawn, and they appeared to be searching.

"Want to bet there's another troop elsewhere?" Kate whispered.

Rebecca was more than willing to. "Kate, what if they're searching all o' Sherwood?"

"What would be the point in—we've got to warn the others!" Kate hissed, panic in her eyes.

"I'm sure they've seen them by now...I'm sure."

"Then in that case, we've got to get back to the camp until we the soldiers have gone," Kate said.

"Take the west side?" Rebecca suggested.

Kate nodded. "You take the east."

"See ya back at the camp?" Rebecca said, realizing she sounded like a true outlaw now.

"Right."

Rebecca went off like a shot, skirting around the trees in an effort to avoid the troop of soldiers. As she sped through the woods she could hear more and more men calling out to one another. As she turned to make her way back to the camp, and hopefully, find the other members of the gang, she nearly ran right into yet another troop. Isabella was certainly catching on to the outlaw's game of hide and seek. She was checking under every rock. Anger simmered through Rebecca, but there would be time enough for her revenge. She tore through the woods, one hand over the hilt of her blade; a weapon which she was still not entirely certain would protect her.

As she headed into the small canyon which led to the camp she saw Guy running up from the opposite direction. About to cry out to him she noticed that he did not go down into the canyon, but instead continued moving up the hillside away from the camp. Confused at this erratic movement, it took Rebecca a moment to realize what he was doing. Four soldiers followed in rapid succession, chasing after Guy. He was leading them off away from the camp on purpose. Abandoning the momentary idea of safety, Rebecca gave chase and followed after the soldiers.

Once sufficiently away from the camp, Guy turned on the men, unsheathing his sword he attacked. He managed to catch the first of the soldiers by surprise and he was quickly run through with the blade. Heedless of the casualty, Guy withdrew his blade from the body of the soldier. The guards would certainly show him little mercy. There was no other choice. Incapacitating the second soldier, Guy found himself overpowered by the other three remaining soldiers. One of the soldiers struck Guy between his shoulder blades with the hilt of his sword, knocking him off balance. It was clear that the men were not looking to kill him, merely capture him.

A shrill cry of outrage echoed in the surrounding glen. Rebecca burst out of the trees and launched herself into the fray. She struck one of the stunned soldiers over the head with her sword, knocking him unconscious. Nimbly leaping to one side to avoid his falling body, Rebecca pointed her blade at the remaining two men. "_Get your hands off him," _she hissed, sounding each word with deadly precision.

Recovering from his initial surprise to see Rebecca, Guy took the opportunity to rid himself of the two men restraining him. He whirled around, punching one of the men in the face so that his head would clang back into his helmet, stunning him.

The other soldier was having better luck fending off Rebecca. As she struck downwards, blocking a stab to her stomach, the soldier turned and nicked her arm with his blade. Jerking her arm upward, the hilt of Rebecca's sword crashed into the soldier's nose. Momentarily blinded by the spurt of blood from his broken nose, the soldier backed off. Swinging his sword blindly, Rebecca had to dodge quickly. It took only one more swing to the back of the man's head for him to pass into blissful unconsciousness.

Breathing heavily, and shocked by her own violent actions, Rebecca let her sword drop from her hands. Guy rushed over to her, half taking her in his arms as he quickly examined her for any signs of injury. "Are you all right?" He asked her.

"Fine...I'm fine," she panted, "Got t'ya in time I see," she laughed shakily, the adrenaline still raged through her blood, making her practically giddy.

"You saved my life," Guy said softly.

She laughed him away and tried to walked past him back in the direction of the camp. "Don't be ridiculous. Ya would have done the same for me."

Guy grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back to him with such force she was pressed against him. His lips were on hers before she could react. At first it was nothing more than a featherlight warmth, and then she was drowning.

Guy felt her struggle only for a moment at the suddenness of his actions, but now he had her. It had been unexpected. Not even he could have planed something like this. Rebecca's lips were soft and yielding against his. She opened to him almost immediately, tasting him with gentle, yet urgent flickers of her tongue.

The entire forest seemed to disappear, as for a split second in time their world was condensed into this one kiss. It was familiar, the way their lips locked together and moved in perfect connection. Rebecca felt herself grow weak, but Guy was not about to let her fall. He was going to keep her like this for as long as possible. If, for a brief moment, their lips would part so that they might breathe, he was quick to claim her again before she could regain her senses.

"No..." Came the rapid and breathless moan. Rebecca forced herself to break from Guy, backing out of his gentle hold about her.

She had a hand over her lips and tears were tracking down her face. Guy stared at her, letting the haze of contentment settle. "Becca?"

"I don't understand. Why would ya...h-h-how--"

He stepped nearer to her, as if to take her in his arms again. Unused to seeing such a tender and caring light in his eyes after so many years of painful indifference or even hatred, Rebecca tried to pull away. He hushed her, taking her arm gently and guiding her to him. "I did not mean to upset you," he whispered, rocking her back and forth.

A tearful gurgle of laughter was forced from her. "Upset me?" Feeling emboldened and riled with conflicting emotions she took his head in her hands and kissed him with all the courage she could muster. "That was the most perfect thing t' have ever happened," she said, kissing him again and again.

With joyful abandon she threw her arms about him, pulling him as close to her as she could. She heard his laughter, low and rich, in her ear. She closed her eyes, reveling in the most perfect bliss of holding him again. She did not have to wonder long over whether or not Guy was feeling similar emotions, for she was soon drowning in another kiss.

This time they only parted at the sound of hurried footsteps.

"Soldiers," Rebecca said. "We should go back t' the camp."

Guy shook his head, "They'll be watching the canyon. They're patrolling the entire area."

A second troop of soldiers stumbled upon them through the trees. Like lightening, Guy grabbed Rebecca by the arm and tore off into the woods. The men were quick to give chase, but Guy and Rebecca had the lead. Tugged along deeper and deeper into the heart of the forest, Rebecca began to laugh. It was a triumphant and giddy sound, heedless of the danger and death which raced after them.

When the threat of the soldiers disappeared to a few angered shouts and disembodied footsteps, it was easy to imagine them as children again running from pretend enemies. With bursting lungs and tired limbs the pair continued to run, neither feeling the true extent of their exertions.

Suddenly, Rebecca was pulled down a stretch of a steep hillside. She shrieked with surprise as she was suddenly forced down into a dense thicket. The sensation of falling was hardly noticeable until she landed on a clump of leaves and branches. Regaining her breath, she took in her surroundings. The sun lit up the green thicket, illuminating it as a network of tightly coiled tree roots, ferns, and low branches.

Guy pulled her close to him and held her tightly as the sounds of the soldiers could be heard over head. For a moment there was nothing to be heard, but the pounding of blood in their ears and their quiet, but heavy breathing. Once the threat of the soldiers left them, Guy relinquished his hold about her and lay back against the foliage.

Rebecca leaned back against a crooked, gnarled root. "I know this place," she panted.

She pushed back the awning of leaves to see the small stream burbling its way through the forest. She grinned wide as she fell back down, breathing in the rich green. "I thought ya had forgotten it."

Guy shook his head, "You don't know me at all if you think I could have possibly forgotten this place."

"That is where ya are wrong," Rebecca said, curling up beside him. "I know ya, Guy of Gisborne, altogether a little too well."

He kissed the top of her head, running his hands through her dark curls. They lay quietly together for some time, both trying to catch their breath again, neither wanting to part from the other. Rebecca propped herself up on one arm, a soft smile on her face as she gazed at the man lying beside her. The sunlight trickled in through the leaves casting warm shadow-green filters of light across his body. He lay with his eyes closed, quietly breathing so that Rebecca was not sure if he was awake or asleep. He looked peaceful, without pain or trouble, it was a beautiful sight; she was certain her heart might burst with happiness for him.

"I remember finding this place," Guy said, half opening his eyes to turn and look at her. "It was raining and we hid here until the storm passed."

Rebecca chuckled. "Oh God, we were so cold an' miserable!"

"I can recall other, less miserable memories as well..." Guy said, reaching up and giving her face a light caress.

Rebecca laughed as she felt her entire body shudder hot and cold. She cocked her head to one side, eying him with a most mischievous glint. "Guy?" She asked him, running a hand along his chest to toy with the buckles along his coat, "When was the last time ya made love?"

He obviously had not been expecting such a question. He gave her an inquiring look before averting his eyes. "I don't think you'd appreciate the answer to that question."

She punched his chest lightly. "Typical man, I did not ask ya when was the last time ya had lain with a woman. I asked ya when was the last time ya made _love_."

He sighed, relaxing once more, "The when of the matter escapes me..." he paused as if to go back through his memories, "but I can recall the woman....she was striking; dark eyes, smiling lips...golden blonde hair..."

"Blonde!" She pummeled him, laughing as he grabbed her wrists and pulled her down on top of him. She was quickly flipped onto her back and he was leaning over her.

"No," he said with a smirk on his face. "She's here, she was always here," he kissed her, his lips fit against hers perfectly, and he marveled at the sensation.

Rebecca sat up, nimble fingers working fast to undo the restricting buckles along the length of his coat. As she pulled the coat off of him, she could feel him undoing the laces of her dress. The simple linen dress was easily pushed down off of her, leaving Rebecca clad only in her shift.

Guy pressed hot kisses along her neck and throat as he cupped her breasts through the light fabric of her shift. He was quick to remove his black shirt, although he had some assistance from Rebecca's hurrying hands.

"I am dreaming," Rebecca laughed. "t' believe ya actually would want me again..." she caressed him, and placed butterfly-light kisses down his chest.

Guy stopped her and forced her to look at him. "I have always wanted you."

"Ya need not say that," Rebecca said, blatant disbelief in her eyes.

"Then what should I say? That I can not remember a time when I did not want you? That when I was an exile I dreamed of you? That when I returned to Nottingham and found you I was like a man recalled to life? Had it not been for my foolish bitterness you would have known. You are a part of me and I thought I could escape you," he could say no more, try as he might to convey what was dwelling in his heart. Rebecca could see how difficult it was for him to tell her even as much as he had, and she could read the truth of every word.

"I love ya, too," Rebecca said with a smile, understanding what he had been truly trying to tell her.

Guy ground his mouth against hers, as if to breath in those words. His fingers tangled in her hair as he drew her in close. By rights he should not be holding this woman now. He was a wretch and a villain, who did not deserve this chance at happiness, especially with one who was so perfectly fitted to him. He should have lost her, but with every movement of her body against his he knew that she was claiming him as hers.

Guy pushed up her shift as he placed a hand against her thigh. Rebecca removed the last of her clothing and lay back completely nude against the cushions of leaves. She smiled wickedly at the lustful look in Guy's eyes. His hands traveled over her body, rediscovering familiar territory. She gave a light moan when his fingers whispered over her sex. He teased her for a few moments, becoming taunted himself with the little whimpers of delight she made.

"Guy..." she panted, "Guy, I need you."

"You have me, Becca," Guy mocked, ceasing his stroking to lean down and place a kiss against her breast.

Rebecca gave a groan of frustration. She could feel the urgency of his own desire pressing up against her. She slid her hand down to the belt around his waist and mentally cursed him for his restrictive clothing. She managed to undo the belt, sliding it off of him and tossing it aside.

He nipped at the sensitive skin of her breasts, causing her to wriggle as he soothed those tiny bites with flickering licks. Rebecca tugged at the laces of his trousers, pausing every so often to stroke him through the fabric. She could feel him shudder against her, the movement bringing delicious shocks through her body.

Guy brought his mouth to hers once more in a fierce kiss as the last of his clothing was removed. "Guy...now.." Rebecca urged.

There could be no prolonging this coupling, they had been denied of each other for far too long. Guy thrust into her. Lightening shot through the both of them. For a moment it seemed even this rediscovered closeness would not be enough to satisfy them. Rebecca wrapped her legs about his waist, thrusting herself up in time to his own motions. They kissed, breathing life and moans of ecstasy into the other. Hands grappled, explored, touched, neither able to get enough. There was no thought other than that of perfect completeness.

Suddenly she was rocked against the peak of her pleasure. She let out a cry of joy as she allowed herself to swept up in the waves of this heated passion. Guy was quick to follow her over that edge, crying out her name as he rode out those delicious and all consuming waves.

Even after their climax there was no desire to part from the other. Guy slumped forward, rolling onto his side, taking Rebecca with him in his arms. They lay fused together still; sweating and gasping for air as their vision cleared and they were brought back to their senses again.

Rebecca buried her head against his chest, content to rest with him. The afterglow of their coupling still clung to them like a halo of light. Guy held her secure in his arms, his joy tinged with a myriad of conflicting guilts; had he really denied himself of her love for all of those years? How different his life would have been if he had not. His hands moved up and down her back in soothing strokes. He could feel the scars left there by the flogging she had been given as her punishment for saving his life. They would, perhaps, fade in time, but they would never truly disappear. He kissed her cheek and he saw her smile and he was hit with the sensation of true happiness. He closed his eyes, the drowsy after effects of their lovemaking finally sinking in.

"Gisborne!"

"Rebecca!"

The lovers were roused to life again at the sound of shouts from far off in the forest. They both sat up, recognizing the panicked voices of Robin and Tuck. They glanced at one another, they had completely forgotten that the rest of the gang would be looking for them by now. Both realizing their lack of judgement, the two burst into uncharacteristic gales of laughter. They were quick to don their clothing, moving at a furious pace so as not to be discovered in their current state.

Once dressed, they made there way out of the thicket to catch up with the others. They walked side by side, the light casting one shadow over the forest floor.

**_1170_**

The sky was black with clouds and thick with rain as it splattered heavily do the ground. The ominous block of clouds had been covering the sun for the better half of the day, but up until the evening there had been no sign of rain. Now, it appeared as if the skies would never be clear again.

Two figures ran through the woods, a boy and a girl, both drenched through with the rain. The boy was holding onto the girl's hand and leading her through the forest, though it appeared as if he had no clue where he was going himself. In the rain soaked woods everything looked the same, and the darkness was dizzying.

The girl cried out as she stumbled over a protruding tree root, falling awkwardly and splashing herself with mud. The boy paused, "Becca! Are you all right?" He asked as he helped her to her feet.

She nodded. "I'm fine. Are ya sure we're going the right way?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"I knew it. We're lost," Rebecca groaned.

"We're not lost...not exactly...I just can't see."

"Maybe we should take shelter until the rain stops."

He seemed to agree with her. "This way..."

In truth one way was as good as another in their current state. They went running pell mell looking for any place that would be suitable to wait out the storm. The slope of the hill caught the pair completely by surprise. They tumbled down the muddy bank, landing in a clump of wet leaves.

Coughing and spluttering, they tried to rouse themselves.

"Here!" Rebecca cried, pointing to the dim outline of a dense thicket.

The two ran towards it, crawling into the opening to find a semi dry shelter. The branches and roots surrounded them nearly on four sides. They collapsed onto their backs, gasping for air, grateful to have a moment of rest and to be out of the rain.

Rebecca was shivering violently. She curled up, hugging herself in an attempt to rid herself of the chills. Something damp and heavy was draped over her. She rolled over, realizing that Guy had placed his cloak over her. She looked over at him, he was trying to restrain himself from shaking, but Rebecca could see the way he shivered and his jaw clacked as his teeth chattered.

She inched herself over to him and placed half of the cloak about his shoulders as well as her own.

"That was supposed to be for you," Guy said, although he did not mind her huddling beside him for warmth.

"Oh, how noble o' ya," Rebecca rolled her eyes, "there's no reason for us both t' freeze t' death out here."

"Think the rain'll stop soon?" She asked.

Guy shook his head. "I don't think so."

Rebecca sighed. "Perfect."

"Wait...can you see that?" Guy squinted his eyes, sliding away from Rebecca to get a better look.

"See what?"

"It's the river!" Guy shouted. "You know what this means, Becca? If we follow it it'll lead us back home. We're not lost! I told you I knew where I was going. Well? Let's go....Becca?"

Noticing that he was receiving little comment on this fantastic finding he turned back around. Rebecca had curled up within the dry thicket and had fallen asleep under the weight of the cloak. He smirked, walking back towards her. He sat down beside her, placing an arm about her. She unconsciously snuggled closer to him. He sighed, "Or we could wait until the rain stops..."

* * *

**A/N: I would be lying if I didn't admit to be extremely nervous about posting this chapter. I'm not a sappy person by nature and so writing romance is always a bit of a challenge for me. I did my hardest to not make this chapter seem overly fluffy, but rather in character. **

**Other than my own jitters with my writing; rejoice, Becca and Guy are finally together after 25 chapters. :)  
**


	26. Dreaming Interrupted

XXVI

Dreaming Interrupted

Captured. That was what Robin continued to tell them; they thought they had been captured, or worse, killed. Where had they been? Were they not aware of the danger they had placed themselves in, or the rest of the gang who had had to go searching for them? Rebecca had to explain the situation from the beginning, but after a while she could no longer continue her report of their disappearance with a straight face. Guy picked up right from where she left off without skipping a beat. He explained how they had hid themselves to avoid detection. They had been trapped, he stated quite calmly. They had had no choice but to wait until all signs of the danger had passed.

This placated Robin and he immediately let the matter drop. They returned to the camp, much to the relief of everyone, no one had been hurt. It was no surprise to anyone that Isabella was vigorously scouring the forest for the outlaws. They would have to take extra measures, and be cautious upon leaving the camp from now on. Certainly, no one was allowed to leave the camp for the rest of the night, until they could be certain the soldiers were well clear of the canyon.

As it was, the gang seemed content enough to bunk down for the rest of the evening. Plates of food were passed around and accepted greedily, as no one had eaten since early that morning. Kate left a space beside her and Robin open, thinking that perhaps Rebecca might join them, but much to her surprise she chose to sit further apart from the gang next to Guy. Kate watched her, confused, she was just beginning to trust the newcomer into the gang, thinking that Rebecca's feelings for Guy remained rooted in the past. Seeing her now shattered that misconception. Rebecca was positively glowing as she and Guy conversed in low tones, separate from that of the rest of the gang.

Kate looked around at the others, wondering if they had noticed this change in temperament, but no one seemed to bother. Even Robin was not looking over at the pair, but Kate wondered if his ignorance was more purposeful in his manner.

After the gang had finished their meager meal they retired to their respective bunks, leaving Guy and Rebecca to their corners of the camp. Rebecca gathered up her blankets and compiled them with Guy's to form a make-shift bed. Finally, Rebecca took heed of the rest of the gang's incredulous stares. She took no offense to them, nor did she particularly care of she had lost their respect. While she had been adjusting nicely to life as an outlaw, and had even begun to admit that she was forming friendships with these people, their judgements would never be enough to deter her from her attachment to Guy.

She could still feel their eyes on her as she pulled the blankets up and over herself and Guy. Let them judge. She was going to go to sleep in the arms of the man she loved and she was going to wake with him. If there was a heaven more perfect than this she had no care for it.

Guy was quick to bring her to him. Rebecca smiled like a contented cat and wrapped an arm about him as she rested her head against his chest. Guy tilted her head upwards, placing a soft kiss upon her lips.

"I would have you now if it were not for this damnable gang constantly keeping watch," he whispered huskily.

"Time enough for that," Rebecca said, although already she was frustrated at the prospect of having to steal away only brief moments with him. "I've already thought of several ways our disappearances would go unnoticed."

"Clever fiend."

"That I am."

It was difficult not to kiss or caress the other, but each little movement only furthered the reality of their frustration. Guy held her as tight as he could, but it was not enough. The two lay awake, unable to sleep due to the restrained and heavily bound passion steadily mounting between them.

"Guy? Ya don't mean to stay with Robin for long do ya?" Rebecca asked.

"I will stay only until I see Nottingham rid of Isabella," Guy replied.

"And then? Where will ya go?"

"I do not know. I suppose we will have to figure that out together."

"Ya intend t' take me with ya, then?" Rebecca said coyly.

"On one condition," Guy whispered.

"Oh? What might that be?" Rebecca chuckled.

"That when we leave Nottingham, we leave as husband and wife."

The very breath was dashed from her lungs. She pushed away from him in her shock. "...what?" she whispered, sitting up as she tried to convince herself that she had indeed heard him correctly.

"Rebecca, I am asking you to marry me."

The silence hung heavy between them and the longer Rebecca left the statement unanswered the greater Guy's fear of rejection grew. "You...you are under no obligation to accept." He said coldly, masking his hurt, "I thought--"

A kiss silenced him. Rebecca fell atop him, peppering his face with light kisses. Guy could feel her tears against his skin. "Yes," she whispered and sobbed, trying desperately to remain as quiet as possible to avoid waking the rest of the gang. "Yes, an' damn ya; that's the second time today you've made me cry like a child."

"It won't happen again, I promise you," he said, taking the woman in his arms.

"We'll go far and away from this place," Rebecca whispered. "Build a home...a family."

The image of home and family was a dream Guy had never yet been able to realize. At one time the simple idea of a peaceful life would have bored him. The game of politics and power had made up the inner workings of his life since he had been thrust into the world alone. He was done with it now. He was tired with the betrayals; with vain loyalties to men only interested in helping themselves. Rebuilding a life with Rebecca would be truly rewarding. He would spend the rest of his life atoning for his negligence and ignorance, but he would never speak of those years again. He had a life to look forward to now, beyond that of revenge and bloodshed. This thought was enough to lull him asleep, and for the first time it was without the disturbances of nightmares.

***

Rebecca could not recall a time when she had been more annoyed in her life. She had been walking beside Robin Hood for the better half of the morning and each time she tried to double back for Guy she had been urged to remain with him.

"I see you and Guy have managed to reconcile," Robin said thinly.

"We have," Rebecca agreed.

"Enough to befriend him again?"

"Yes."

"Enough to love him?"

"Enough to marry him."

"Have you taken leave of your senses?!" Robin shouted, stopping in his tracks and turning to face her accusingly.

Robin looked at the surprised faces of the rest of the gang, "All of you, go on...Rebecca and I need to talk."

"Robin..."

"I said go!" Robin shouted, shutting Guy's intervention down.

Rebecca nodded to Guy, indicating that she would be fine alone with him. The gang went on, their eyes constantly shifting back to glance at her and Robin. Everyone knew what they were talking about, and it was clear she wouldn't be receiving their sympathies.

"Robin, you can not be angry with me," Rebecca said.

"Not angry, no, just disgusted."

"I was never seeking your approval in the matter," Rebecca scoffed.

"It's not a matter of my approval. We may need Guy in order to defeat Isabella, but that does not excuse him from the crimes he has committed! He is still a traitor and a murderer..."

"He knows!" Rebecca shouted, "Oh, Robin, I assure you he knows an' he will never forgive himself for what he has done, nor will he ever forget it. He believes himself bound for Hell an' whose t' say if he will not burn for all the wrong he has ever done?"

Robin turned away from her, not wanting to her her defense of Guy. Rebecca grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her. "Robin, there is no amount o' love that I can give t' him that will ever absolve him o' his crimes, or heal him, but we have a chance now for a life together. All we want is t' be able to live out the rest o' our lives in peace."

Robin's temper slowly abated. "And you should be given that chance," he sighed, "Rebecca, I..."

"Don't apologize," Rebecca said, "I don't deserve t' hear it. Ya have a right t' your grief an' anger, I'm not denying ya that."

Robin could only nod. He patted Rebecca's arm and she released him. They walked on to catch up with the rest of the gang. "We intend to leave Nottingham," Rebecca said. "When all this is over, and Isabella is gone...you will never have t' see us again."

"Robin!" It was Kate, she was running down the path towards them, "There's a messenger riding up the path! I think it's from Isabella!"

They exchanged looks before running off to meet this supposed messenger. Once they caught up with the others Robin and Kate went out to stake an ambush, while the others waited to catch their prey once it had arrived.

"What did Robin want?" Guy asked her quietly.

"Oh nothing, just a friendly chat that's all," Rebecca said cheerily, "A little misunderstanding..."

Tuck was at a loss as to what Rebecca meant, but Guy seemed to understand. "He understands now, does he?"

She nodded, "Perfectly."

The sound of arrows thudding into the ground was enough of a signal for the rest of the gang. They emerged from their hiding place. Guy went to relieve the messenger of his burden. Rebecca stood over the man with her sword in hand. Guy passed the parchment off to Tuck who read from it aloud:

"My Prince, I understand the urgency of your request. Richard returns from the Crusades within a month troops loyal to him await his return in Loughborough, we must be ready. You ask for three hundred men, food, and supplies I will dispatch them at sunset to join with your northern forces in Donecaster. England will soon be yours."

A silence fell over the gang at the news that King Richard would be returning to England at last. Before they could recollect themselves shouting could be heard from over the hillside. Little John was calling out, and as they raced up the hillside to meet him they could hear him saying that a hundred men had been taken from Clun. Much quickly followed behind him, yelling that a hundred men had been kidnapped from Nettlestone as well. The gang exchanged dark looks. There was only one place left for Isabella to claim her promised three hundred troops: Locksley.

They were away like arrows loosed from a bow. Robin Hood drove them on, his anxiety for his peoples' safety was palpable. It did not take them long to enter the village and the sight which greeted them was far from sane. Soldiers were everywhere, and the men were being dragged away from their homes. Some where already chained to carts to be dispatched off to Nottingham, and from there to meet up with the rest of Prince John's army.

There was no strategy, they hardly had time to commune over the best way to enter the situation. Robin fired two shots from his bow, felling two of the soldiers. This seemed to be a suitable signal for attack. They went rushing in, weapons drawn. There was no time to give quarter to any of the men.

As Rebecca rushed to engage one of the soldiers in battle she found herself tugged swiftly out of danger. Guy disarmed the man and ran him through. He turned to Rebecca. "Stay behind me."

"I can fight, too!" She protested.

Guy was not interested in her pleading. He kept her in his line of vision, the battle was swift and chaotic. Anyone could get swept up in the melee. He knew Rebecca had learned a few tricks during her brief stay with Robin Hood and his gang, but he was not going to risk her life on those rudimentary skills. She was a part of this fight now, whether she liked it or not, but she was too precious to be lost in the heat of battle.

The gang rounded up the village men, urging them to crowd together at the center of the village. The soldiers were already in retreat by the time the last chain of men was broken. Relieved that no one was hurt, the gang quickly led the men off into Sherwood, where they would be safe for the time being.

Rebecca did not speak to Guy as they walked back to the camp. She would eventually calm down and he realize his protection of her was not a slight to her pride, but he knew her well enough to understand that there would be no point in arguing with her.

It had already begun to rain as they made their way back to the camp. Questions hung answered in the frigid air. What was to be done with the fugitives? They could not live out the remainder of their lives in Sherwood. Certainly, there would be repercussions for this attack against Isabella? Should they not deal with the threat of her reign once and for all.

"We take the castle," Robin said, breaking the silence, "claim it under King Richard. Put Isabella under house arrest. Release the supplies. Release the men. And we hold that castle until King Richard returns."

It sounded of suicide. The castle was filled with soldiers, they would be cut to pieces the moment they stepped through the gates.

"But we can't take a castle!" Much cried, voicing the gang's mutual thoughts.

"We can if we go down the tunnel," Guy said steadily.

All eyes were on him as he explained the construction of a secret passageway which led directly into the heart of the castle. It's location was remote enough that they could feasibly enter undetected and emerge in the castle and take Isabella unawares. It was certainly better than fighting off hundreds of soldiers.

Rebecca was about to agree to the plan when Kate interrupted, "Well count me out. I don't trust him. "

"How do we know this isn't a trap?" Little John concurred.

"Because," Guy snapped, aggravated to have his loyalties questioned, "we want the same thing."

"Since when have you cared about our people?" Kate exclaimed.

"I don't," Guy growled restraining the urge the strangle the intolerable woman, "I just want Isabella. She betrayed me to Prince John and I intend to make her pay!"

"Now that sounds like the Gisborne we all know and loathe!" Kate shouted.

"Well, I don't see ya coming up with a better plan," Rebecca snapped, hand on the hilt of her sword.

"No one asked for your opinion. We all know you'll side with whatever Gisborne says anyway."

"That's enough!" Robin shouted, breaking up the ensuing fight. "We go through the tunnel, and that's my final word."

No one contested this statement. The gang was split into groups to gather tools to make arrows. Rebecca saw Guy slink out of the camp, a dark expression clouding his eyes. She went after him, "Don't listen t' a word o' what Kate said."

"They have a right to doubt me, Becca," Guy said, "I'm not one of them."

"So? I'm not one o' them either. Think that I mind so much? Ya have me, is that not enough?"

Judging from the way he stopped to kiss her, Rebecca had to conclude that she was indeed more than enough. She smiled up at him, "It's one more fight, Guy. We'll win it; we have t'. Then we'll finally be free o' this place."

**_1188_**

She was a fever in his blood. There was not a moment that passed where he was not fervently aware of how much he wanted her. There was no way to avoid her, and yet he had found every excuse to do so. Guy was not blind to the effect this was having on her. He could see quite plainly the confusion and pain in Rebecca's eyes. Good, he wanted her to hurt. He wanted her to know what it felt like to be abandoned and lost.

She no longer sought him out, and she had ceased to greet him with a naïve smile or a kind word. It was as if she was turning to stone and his bitterness was chipping away at her. While this gave him some amount of pleasure it also provided its own torment.

So engrossed was he in his own dark thoughts that he failed to pay attention to what was right before him. He was jarred from his own private revelations when he collided into another figure. Before he could berate whatever imbecile had run directly into him, Guy was shoved forcefully backwards.

"Why don't you watch where you're going?"

Guy blinked, staring into the bright eyes of an aggravated young woman. The woman had long and luscious curls which trailed down past her shoulder. She eyed her intruder with a look of annoyance. She carried herself upright and straight, but she was still slightly smaller than him. Her dress was green it rustled when she crossed her arms as if she expected him to apologize to her. Guy was at a loss for words.

"Well?" The woman snapped, "Have you nothing to say for yourself?"

"I..." Guy swallowed. The most beautiful woman in the world was asking if he had anything to say to her. Of course he did not.

She sighed, "Impossible. Just like the other guards. The new Sheriff certainly chose his men wisely," she brushed past him to continue marching down the hallway.

"Guy!" He blurted out suddenly, whirling around, "My...my name. It's Guy...Sir Guy of Gisborne."

She stopped and turned about, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "I know that name," she walked back to him. "You're Sheriff Vaysey's right hand man. I suppose then, _Sir_ Guy, you're going to make me apologize to you?"

Guy smirked, quite the firebrand, this one. "I'll settle for your name instead."

She shot him a crooked, little grin. Her eyes studying him intensely, "Marian, or if you so prefer, Lady Marian of Knighton."

The name ricocheted around in his mind. "Well then, Lady Marian, I apologize for disturbing your walk."

She laughed, "Be assured, Sir Guy, you do not disturb me at all."

That was a challenge, it was to be expected. She must be the daughter of the old Sheriff he and Vaysey had ousted a few months ago. How had he not had the pleasure of meeting this veritable angel before? Perhaps he had seen her, but he had been so distracted lately he might have passed her by without ever knowing her. He could not even fathom that now.

They both eyed each other like predators sizing up their prey. She certainly did not trust him, and she had every right not to. "Perhaps, as we are apparently walking in the same direction, we could continue on our way together?" Guy asked the hint of a low growl in his voice.

"And how would you know if we were going the same way? As I recall you ran into me, Sir," Marian retorted.

"What if I planned for us to meet in such a way?"

She laughed again, and slowly he could see some of her hesitations slipping away. Was she beginning to take a liking to him? God knew he was already enamored with her.

"Quite the elaborate scheme when a simple 'hello' would have sufficed," Marian said, "If this was your aim then, Sir Guy, I must concede to your excellent strategy," she performed a mock bow. "You may walk with me."

She said this as if she was giving him a great privilege and something told him she did not give out this favor to just any man who ran into her. There was a quiet and secretive way about her, even if she covered it with clever talk. She walked with him, keeping a fair space between them which discouraged him from taking her arm. She was playing a game with him, he could see it in her flashing eyes. That was fine, he could use the challenge. He walked on with her, all former frustrations and thoughts melting away.

* * *

**A/N: A little treat for all of you Guy/Marian shippers out there. :) Had a delightful time writing this little flashback. **

**Also, if the sound of approaching doom is beginning to become audible to you...that is not a trick. Ready the tissue box. I leave you on that note.  
**


	27. Revenge

XXVII

Revenge

There was a gentle quiet around the outlaw's camp. A calm before the storm; however, while the ran trickled steadily down atop the canopy it was relatively safe and dry inside. All that afternoon, Rebecca had helped gather wood to make arrows while the others gathered any trinkets they could find to melt down into arrowheads. Rebecca was rather enjoying being taught how to whittle the pieces of strong, tough wood into light and flighty arrows. It was altogether too easy to believe that they were not readying themselves for battle.

Then the whirlwind came. Little John and Tuck entered the camp, recently returned from Nottingham. Before anyone could give a friendly greeting Little John grabbed Allan by the throat and slammed him into one of the bunks.

"Traitor!" He hissed, "What did you tell them?"

"It's all over Nottingham," Tuck gasped, "Allan's been pardoned by the Sheriff for services rendered."

"What?!" Allan tried to shout.

"John, let him go," Robin said.

"Let me speak!" Allan pleaded.

"Oh, you're good at that aren't you, speaking...lying?!" John shouted.

Tuck and Robin pulled John off of Allan. He backed up staring at his friends with wide eyes. "I haven't done anything," he said, his voice cracking. "I swear I haven't betrayed you."

He looked around at the gang, pleading with them, begging for them to look him in the eye and tell him that they believed him. No one could. "None of you...none of you believe me."

Rebecca fidgeted uncomfortably. She wasn't sure what to believe, she did not know the man long enough to know his true nature. "Right then," he muttered, "I'll be off..."

"No! He'll tell them about the tunnel!" Much exclaimed.

"Right then..." Robin sighed, "tie him up."

"What? No...no...no Robin?"

"I can't take the risk. What's we've secured the castle we will come back and we will sort this out." Robin said as calmly as his mounting disbelief and anger would allow. "Get it done." He said listlessly to John.

It was then, Rebecca realized the seriousness of the situation. Robin was willing to turn his back on his own friend in order to secure the castle. This was no ordinary raid and this was no ordinary battle. This was going to be a fight to the death. She gave an involuntary shudder at all that that implied.

***

Everything was ready, but nothing felt right. Allan was trussed up back at the camp and Kate was no where to be found. It was down to a simple six, hardly an army, and hardly a force to intimidate Isabella.

Rebecca kept a hand over the hilt of her sword as if to check she still wore it. She was going into open war and she was not a soldier, she wasn't even certain if she could take another man's life. She looked up at Guy, his face was set in stone and revealed nothing. Was he just as frightened as her? She longed for him to take her in his arms and convince her that everything was going to be fine. That brief moment of childish fear was suddenly erased. She had to become a fighter, and quickly. She squeezed the hilt of her blade one more time and let her arms drop to her sides.

Robin stopped walking and motioned for the remnants of his gang to gather around him. "We get into the castle, capture Isabella, release the villagers. If the convoy leaves then we've failed. Tuck, John, Rebecca...it's up to you to stop it, no matter what."

A silence fell over them as they understand exactly what was required of them to stop the villagers from leaving Nottingham. Robin sighed, "This could be the last time we see each other."

That was intolerable to Rebecca. She tried to suppress a chill which shot down her spine. She watched numbly as Robin went to embrace his friends. Rebecca looked over at Guy, he seemed unable to meet her gaze. She could withstand it no longer, she took him in her arms, clutching him as tight as she could.

Guy held her gently, letting Rebecca hide herself against him. He brushed back locks of her dark hair and let his hands trace the contours of her face as if to memorize it. He breathed her in, reveling in the warmth and sweetness of her. He leaned down to kiss her, but found himself pushed away. Rebecca released him, shaking her head. "Ya will kiss me an' accept that as your last an' I can't allow that. This is not the last time we will see each other." She smiled bravely, "Come back t' me alive or I swear I'll kill ya myself."

He managed a smile for her as well and he nodded to her. "Ya swear?" Rebecca said, her voice shaking.

"On my life," he said taking her hand in his and kissing it softly.

"Rebecca?" Tuck asked. It was time to go.

She nodded to him and gave Guy one last glance before turning and heading off towards Nottingham.

***

The gates of Nottingham never seemed so tall before in all of Rebecca's life. They were still closed, but they loomed over her ominously. She stood between Tuck and John; standing in the middle of the two men and the gates—she felt as small as a mouse.

Tuck laid a hand upon her shoulder. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Rebecca said. "Don't worry," she chuckled noticing the almost pitying looks she was receiving, "I'll fight just as hard as any o' ya. Can't die yet, things t' do."

She made them laugh and for just a moment the tension was broken. She sighed, "How are we gonna stop the convoy?"

Before Tuck could explain, he became distracted by the sight of something at the corner of his eye. He turned around: the villagers from Locksley were emerging from the forest, armed with whatever rudimentary weapons they had found. Rebecca uttered a small prayer at the sight of them. "Their brave, but they can't fight...look at them. It'll be a massacre." John whispered.

Tuck gave a knowing nod and went to speak to the villagers, "Gentlemen, these gates will open soon. Now, it is our task to stop the supply train in its tracks. And that is exactly what we are going to to do. When these gates open, and the supply train pulls out we are going to sit down. Just sit, in silence. My friends, we are going to turn the other cheek."

Both Little John and Rebecca lurched forward, questions on their lips. It would be suicidal to stand in the way of an army. Tuck continued, heedless to his comrades doubts, "The Sheriff's men will be faced with a choice: stand aside, or carry out a massacre."

"No!" Rebecca hissed, "They'll kill all o' us!"

"Then we are dead men either way!" Tuck countered.

A cry came from within the town to open the gates. Tuck turned and calmly sat down in the middle of the road. Rebecca stared at him with a mixture of awe and horror. She wanted to draw her sword, at least the cold metal acted as some amount of protection. If she willingly sat down, would she not be conceding to die? John sat down beside Tuck, and soon all the others followed.

Rebecca felt words of protest rise to her lips. Tuck looked up at her, pleading with her to join them. Realizing that there would be no winning this battle she relented and sat down, her limbs feeling like lead even as her heart pounded blood—urging her to stand up and fight for her life.

The gates opened, reveling the army of guards ready to move out the convoy of men and supplies. The commander surveyed the mob of people sitting in the way of their train. "You there!" He shouted, his voice booming and grating, "move out of the road!"

Rebecca felt the breath catch in her lungs as the soldiers were ordered to draw their weapons. She was going to die. This was how everything was going to end. The commander approached Tuck, his sword drawn and aimed directly at his heart. Rebecca felt as if she would scream, but then...the man lowered his sword. Rebecca felt the breath race back into her frame. Tuck had been right. It took courage to kill a man in battle, but it took more cowardice than a hundred men to murder a man in cold blood.

"Get out of the way!" An icy voice shouted from the battlements. Isabella stood with a crossbow aimed for the protesting men. Rebecca eyed her like a hawk. She wished she would come down to their level, she highly doubted Isabella would act so lordly then. She wanted her so badly, her hands were itching to wrap themselves around her throat.

The arrows was released from the bow and it sped straight into Tuck's shoulder. "Cut them down!" Isabella cried.

Rebecca stared at her injured friend. She twitched, wanting to spring to her feet and race after Isabella.

"Start with me then!"

Rebecca turned, as did all the others. Kate came marching up from behind, fire burning in her eyes. She held out her sword for one of the soldiers, "Start with me, and kill an innocent girl."

The man hesitated, but raised his sword regardless of his momentary affliction. He never got the chance to strike out at Kate, for he was dead before he hit the ground. A man standing behind the troop of soldiers let out a roar of anger and drew his swords. He attacked like a lion, catching the guards completely unawares. It was a signal. Tuck and Little John rose to their feet, weapons at the ready.

Rebecca unsheathed her sword, "Isabella!" She shouted up to the horrified woman. "Ya had better run an' hide. I'm coming for ya!"

Isabella staggered backwards as if she had seen a ghost. She disappeared from the battlements. Rebecca gave a ringing laugh and ran in through the gates. Soldiers were everywhere, but that didn't matter to her. It was incredible how easy it was to fight once the blood was up. She could feel her sword piercing through armor, stabbing through flesh. The hum of swords passed dangerously close to her own skin, but that seemed only to thrill her. Isabella was somewhere in the castle, and she had all the time in the world in which to catch her. She was no longer one of the meek and helpless.

As she ran into the castle she was suddenly blocked by two soldiers. She swung out at one, but the other grabbed her arm, twisting the blade from her hand. She gave a cry as she was flung to the ground. She kicked out with her legs, tangling the soldier. Pushing herself up with her arms she was once again on her feet.

A resounding roar filled Rebecca's ears. Much came running down from the castle steps. Rebecca could only watch, surprised, as he disposed of the soldiers. He held out his hand and helped her to her feet. "Much, you're all right!"

"Oh..yeah...fine. And no need to thank me for saving your life and all..."

Rebecca giggled, "Thank ya."

They both stood in the courtyard, watching the remaining guards retreating towards the town gates. The villagers were overwhelming them as they scattered, at a lost for leadership. "They're falling back!" Rebecca said before laughter burst out of her. She jumped up, holding her sword aloft, "They're falling back! We've won!"

As soon as the rush of immediate victory left her she turned towards much, looking at him as if for the first time, "Much...where's Robin? Where's..."

"_Becca!_"

"Guy!"

Rebecca threw her sword to the ground as she ran towards him. Guy caught her, lifting her off of her feet with the force of his embrace. He could hear her laughing as she pulled him towards her. She kissed him, but she was trembling so much it felt like dozens of smaller urgent kisses. Their hands went everywhere, examining the other for any sign of injury no matter how insignificant.

Guy smiled, widely and openly without shame of being seen. The day had been won, and they had both survived it. There was only the future to be looked towards now. He pressed his lips to hers in another warm kiss. Tomorrow they would be married and they would leave Nottingham for a new life. It wasn't possible to feel so much complete and absolute happiness.

Rebecca was beginning to believe Guy would never let her go again, when she noticed the rest of the gang congregating in a small alcove. She slowly parted from him when she spotted Isabella being restrained by Robin. Anger flushed through her and she tried to run over towards her. Guy gripped her arm, "Vengeance does not suit you, Becca," he said gently. "Let it go."

"I need this, Guy," Rebecca said, "She tried t' take ya from me. I need this."

Reluctantly, he let her go, but his hesitation was enough to steady her. She walked calmly over to the others. It only took a light touch upon Robin's shoulders for him to give her space. Isabella and Rebecca stared at one another, for once level with each other. She stared at the bedraggled woman who had fallen so far from the seat of power. The sound and force of her slap echoed with a sharp finality. Rebecca's dark eyes iced over as she saw the redness bloom in Isabella's cheek where she had struck her.

"I remember the day ya were born," Rebecca said, her words falling to the ground like pieces of glass, "An' all I ever gave ya from that day was love, not from that o' a servant, but that o' a sister. An' I know...ya loved me too. It is only because o' that that I can not kill ya. That does not mean that I can not condemn ya. You're going to live, because it's not Robin's way t' kill his enemies. I want ya t' live in this misery ya created for yourself, knowing that for every moment o' despair ya have, all those ya once loved an' tried so hard t' destroy are living in complete peace and happiness. That is my revenge on ya an' all between us is finished. Good bye, Isabella."

"This is far from over, Rebecca!" Isabella spat, "You should have killed me when you had the chance!"

The threat fell upon deaf ears as she was dragged off by Tuck and John. Rebecca returned to Guy's arms, fully content at last. "So, when do we leave Nottingham?" she asked.

"First light tomorrow, so you had better get some rest." Guy kissed her forehead.

"How ya can even think o' rest at a time like this astounds me," she giggled.

"No," Robin interrupted, "Guy's right. You should rest. It's been a long day and there are still several matters to attend to. Kate, Much...help me tend to any injured."

Left to their own devices, Guy took the moment to sweep Rebecca off of her feet and into his arms. She let out a shriek of surprise at the suddenness of his gesture. "Am I t' be carried off like a sack o' grain?"

"I'm told most women enjoy this sort of treatment," Guy laughed.

"Well, I am not most women," she purred in his ear.

"No you are not, thank God."

Guy carried her through the empty halls of the castle leading towards his old chambers. He smiled faintly as he remembered the last time he had walked these halls with her, only then she had been supporting him as he stumbled through with a wounded leg. It seemed only fitting that he should be carrying her this time.

He kicked the door open to the bedchamber. The curtains were still drawn back from when Rebecca had tended to the place. The evening light brightened the usually dark and dreary room. It was more like a cell than an elaborate chamber; built for solitude rather than company. Guy laid Rebecca down on the bed. He looked down at her, the light catching on her skin and reflecting in her midnight eyes.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. He could have elaborated, perhaps told her in detail what he found beautiful about her, but he was never one for any overuse of words. Besides, Rebecca was not a vain creature and she would never think to ask him to tell her why.

Rebecca smiled, but did not blush in flattery; seeing the look of true and pure love in Guy's eyes was enough. He did not have to say another word to her, she felt all that was unsaid as keenly as if he had spoken the most eloquent words of admiration.

He fell beside her on the bed, immediately drawing her close and taking her lips in a fervent kiss. "My Becca..." he said, with a tired sigh, his exhaustion over the days violent and chaotic events finally catching up with him. He heard Rebecca give a similar sigh, content to be resting with him at last. Guy draped an arm about her and rested his head against her breast. He could hear the steady slowing of Rebecca's rapidly beating heart. Rebecca's fingers wove through his dark hair. She sighed, snuggling further down against the bed, delighting in the feel him of him pressed so closed to her.

"Guy," she whispered idly, half to herself and half to the drowsy man beside her, "My most perfect and wonderful and beloved Guy..."

He laughed lightly at her words of endearment, "I am not all of those things," he said as he moved his head off of her chest to let it rest on the pillow behind him. He was now eye level with her and he flashed her a cheeky grin.

Rebecca smiled, "Now ya listen t' me, Gisborne; I love you an' I always have loved you. I would have loved you even if you were the poorest man in all the world, or the richest. If you were the most admired and all loved ya no one could adore ya as much as me. If all the world hated ya, I'd still love ya and let the rest o' the world despise me too. An' I'd still love ya even if ya were the ugliest man in the world, or the most handsome. So there."

"....you don't find me the most handsome man in all the world?" He asked her after a moment of silence.

He was rewarded with a light punch to his chest. Guy laughed taking her hand in his own, in truth touched beyond proper words at her bold statement. "I do not deserve you, Becca."

"Oh, you stupid man, ya didn't understand a word I said," Rebecca sighed exasperatedly. "Ya _do_ deserve me, Guy. Just as I deserve you. I said I love ya, because I love ya even for all o' your faults and for all the wrong ya have ever done, just as I love ya for all the goodness in ya and all the things no one else knows save for me. That is why I say ya are perfect. You are perfect to me."

Guy's heart swelled at her words, so much so that he could feel it as a deep aching joy pounding within his chest. He kissed her sweetly, "You are the most precious thing to me. I've always known this, even when we were children. I went through half my life thinking I could forget this; that I did not still love you. I can't expect you to ever forgive me for what I did to you, I will not forgive myself..."

"Shhh..." Rebecca placed a hand against his cheek, "Don't speak o' it anymore. Ya still have me, ya have not lost me. Do not think that ya could have."

He knew that she was only trying to comfort him, but he knew how close he had come to losing her entirely. He shuddered at the idea of what the remainder of his life would have been like if he had lost her only to realize how much he still needed her.

Rebecca smiled for him, caressing him gently before lowering her hand once she saw the look of darkness pass out of his eyes. She curled up beside him, proving her very real and tangible presence.

"Now, I believe we should do as we were told," Rebecca said.

"What was that?"

"Rest," she said simply, "I would hate for us t' be tired for our journey tomorrow."

"Should I retire to different chambers, then?" Guy asked.

"How could ya suggest such a thing?" Rebecca accused, gripping him tightly, daring him to try and pry himself away from her.

Guy laughed, bringing his mouth to her ear as he whispered, "Is it not bad luck for a man to see his bride before their wedding?"

"Yes," Rebecca acknowledged, "but that would imply that ya have not already seen me." She pushed her body against his, "An' I assure ya it's far too late for that."

He smirked, he simply could not argue with her logic. He renewed his embrace and kissed her softly before bidding her to close her eyes and sleep.

**_1192_**

"Becca!"

The shattering cry startled everyone within the manor. Guy came striding in through the entrance hall, turning about impatiently. His behavior was one that could easily be construed for that of anger.

He moved down the hall at a fierce pace, his eyes scanning the manor with a look of such intensity it could have burned through the walls. There came a scuffling from the foyer which was followed by the scattered figure of Rebecca. She came running towards him, her dark eyes wide and worrisome.

Guy looked frightening and imposing standing with his arms crossed as he watched her approach him. Had she done something wrong? They had hardly spoken to one another, what cause did he have to call for her in so callous a manner? "Master?" She hesitated.

"My chambers. Now," he barked, turning on his heels and speeding away up the staircase towards his bedchamber.

Rebecca gawped like a fish out of water at the whirlwind of demands. She heard a whispered giggle and a few nervous sounding laughs. She turned to see a group of servants hiding in the corner watching the interaction. They did not seem too nervous upon being seen by Rebecca, their laughter redoubled in intensity causing Rebecca to blush a deep crimson.

She walked over to the staircase, mounting it tentatively, she climbed her way up to his room. Guy was waiting for her when she appeared in the doorway. He hastily pulled her inside, practically slamming the door behind them. He took both of her hands in his, an action which startled Rebecca into nearly pulling away from him.

"There is something you should know," he said cryptically, a smirk beginning to emerge on his face which was erasing all former traces of what Rebecca had previously perceived as anger.

"And what is that, master?" she asked, swallowing the lump in her throat at the intense gaze he was shooting at her.

"I wanted you to hear it from me, before the others are given word," Guy went on.

Rebecca found her own excitement building as she noticed the look of hidden and bridled joy behind Guy's blue eyes. Her trepidation vanished, "What is it? Oh for God's sake, master, tell me!" she laughed.

"I have asked Marian for her hand in marriage."

She was positive she had not heard him correctly, but she found she had not the breath in her lungs to ask him to repeat the statement again.

"And she has consented. We are to be married."

"Married?" She finally managed to utter, trying desperately not to let any of the former light in her eyes fall.

"Yes."

"T' Marian? And...and she said yes....?"

Guy nodded fervently, for a moment forgetting he was talking to his servant, "Are you not pleased by this?"

"Oh no—I...I mean, yes, yes of course. It's just...so soon..."

"Hardly," Guy chuckled.

Rebecca decided her heart should fall from her chest. She had no more use for it and as it pounded inside her it sent stabbing shocks of agony racing through her blood making her weak and sick to her soul. She wanted to take her hand and pull the damnable organ out.

"The reason I told you first is because I want you to be Marian's maidservant when she comes to live in Locksley," Guy said this as if he was granting her a great favor.

Now Rebecca was certain she no longer had need of her heart. "I...I am...flattered, master, but...surely there are others more capable than me." No, she would not do it. He could not ask her to. She was already sick with the idea of another woman wearing his ring, becoming his wife. She did not have to see her rival everyday let alone serve under her. Her body silently shuddered at the thought. Marian may care for Guy, but she certainly did not love him, but the poor man was too painfully in love with her to notice the difference.

"Becca, you do not understand. Marian will want for female companionship, and I want her to grow to think of you as a friend as I do. Besides," he went on, letting his thoughts run away with him, "there is no one I would trust more to take care of those I love. You are the most loyal, compassionate, kind...." his voice suddenly trailed off as they both stared at one another, a similar, suffocating silence consuming them.

"Does she love you?" Rebecca whispered.

"She is...stirred by me...I believe...in time...she will," Guy stammered his bravado dissipating. He found he could no longer look Rebecca in the eye.

Rebecca nodded, "And will she make ya happy?" For a moment she was no longer his servant and he was no longer her master. She was his friend again, and he was the confused and vulnerable boy wanting to assure her he was in fact, fine and not hurting.

"Yes," Guy answered.

"Then I will befriend her gladly," Rebecca said honestly. She began to make her way towards the door, "If that is all, master?"

Guy nodded. Rebecca paused in the doorway, turning to face him a sad and tender smile on her face, "Master? I am happy for ya." It was all she was capable of saying by way of congratulations. She slipped from the door and Guy could hear her hurriedly pound her way down the stairs.

Things were all going perfectly. The woman he loved was finally his betrothed and she would soon be his wife. Already he could picture her wandering the halls and rooms of Locksley Manor, the start of his family. Everything was finally falling in to place, just as he had planned and as it should be. If that were so, then why did he feel so empty?

* * *

**A/N: We're coming up on the ending, people. Prepare yourselves. **

**Also, this is an edited version of this chapter. While I know many of you are of an age where explicit content is probably fine for you all to view, I don't feel the need to post gratuitous explicit content on this site. If you wish to see the original piece send me a PM and I will send you the chapter in it's entirety. :)  
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	28. One More Moment

**An impossibly long chapter awaits you. Enjoy with tissues if needed.

* * *

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XXVIII

One More Moment

Rebecca blinked awake, yawning lightly as her sight returned to her. She was at once awash with a feeling of warmth. She smiled at the sight of the man still asleep beside her. Guy looked so peaceful; none of the former frowns lined his skin like they had when she had tended to him when he returned to Locksley. She remembered how feverish he had been. She thought he would die with the agony of his loss and guilt.

She kissed his face with ghostly presses of her lips. She vowed he would never be so alone and left in such despair again. He stirred at her touch and opened his eyes. His face broke into a faint smile as he caught sight of Rebecca. He stretched, reaching for her and delighting in the playful giggling shriek she uttered as they tangled together.

Rebecca nuzzled against Guy's neck and shoulder. "How did ya sleep?" she asked him, wondering if he had truly been as content as he had looked.

"Peacefully," he replied.

"No dreams?"

"Oh, I did not say that. I dreamed," Guy said slyly.

"What of, pray tell," she prompted.

"Of waking and seeing you."

"Rogue," Rebecca laughed, shoving him lightly. "D'ya think your silver tongue will beguile me, sir?"

"I only ever speak the truth," Guy said, his tone darkening with mock offense. "I am hurt you should think otherwise."

His old humor had certainly returned with a vengeance, Rebecca found she could not silence the laughter in her voice. "What can I do t' heal ya then?"

Guy gestured for her to lean closer to him. She did so warily. Guy raised his head up and stole a kiss from her. "There," he announced softly, "I am healed."

A knock on the door to the chambers startled the pair. They both turned their heads towards the door. "What is it?" Guy snapped, his mood shifting to icy anger towards any who sought to intrude upon them.

"Robin sent me to inform you to meet him in the courtyard. He thought you might be in here." It was Kate.

"Can't whatever it is wait?" Guy groaned.

"No. Robin's orders. Come down whenever you're ready," Kate said, sounding less than pleased to have become the messenger girl.

"Fine, tell him I'm on my way."

"And you will tell Rebecca as well...if you should see her," Kate added as an aside.

Guy was about to answer when Rebecca's voice boomed out, "I can answer for myself. Tell Robin _we're both _on our way."

They heard no more from the other woman beyond the door. Rebecca grinned like a naughty child. "That ought to shock her out of any of her nasty little remarks about me."

"You did not have to do that. She thinks little of you as it is," Guy said.

Rebecca shrugged, slipping from the bed as she donned her clothes. "I spent all my life hiding the fact that I loved ya. I'm your betrothed, I won't feel ashamed o' my love anymore. I'll tell everyone if I want t'. I'll shout it from the battlements if ya like."

"You wouldn't," Guy teased as he clothed himself as well.

Rebecca raised an eyebrow challengingly and before Guy could stop her she ran for the door, unbolting it and dashing into the empty and barren hallway of the castle. Guy chased after her. She went running down laughing, "I love Guy of Gisborne! I love Guy of Gisborne!" she shouted repeatedly.

Guy caught her, attempting to silence her. Rebecca laughed at his efforts, she kissed him swiftly, "Come on, let's see what Robin wants with all o' us. The sooner we do, the sooner we can get ourselves to a church t' be married."

***

Guy and Rebecca joined up with the rest of the gang near the castle gates. The villagers were standing around as well. Everyone appeared to be in high spirits and the wounded had all been tended to. Isabella stood with her hands tied behind her back, the object of much ridicule from the crowd. Robin was standing up atop an overturned wagon, a useful stage for the purpose. His face was beaming, and the way the villagers were staring up at him he must have been talking for some time before Guy and Rebecca had caught up to them all.

"...in the name of King Richard, I charge Isabella of Gisborne with high treason, and high crimes against the people of Nottingham. The castle and everything in it belongs to the people!" He cried, his arms raised enthusiastically .

Rebecca found herself cheering along with the others, surprised to find herself swept up by the feelings of mutual triumph and happiness. The victory was finally validated, the King was soon to arrive in England, and all would be set to right. It was perfect--

"Robin!" Much's shout cut through the cheers of the people.

Robin's face lined at the panicked cry and he leapt down from the wagon. Much signaled for the gang to follow him. Something was wrong. They ran to the town gates where a bundle lay as if strategically placed for them to find. Much, Robin, and John quickly unraveled it. Rebecca let out a gasp of horror and placed a hand over her mouth to cover her cry. John nearly fell over in shock; Kate had to avert her eyes. For lying in the road was the body of Allan a'Dale. It was clear even before Tuck leaned over to hurriedly examine him, that he was past the point of their help.

"Close the gates..." Guy said, slowly drawing his sword.

His words caused the rest of the outlaws to look past the road to the hill beyond where a cavalry of soldiers were spilling downwards in all directions. Guy pulled Rebecca behind him and in her state of shock she did not fight him. Where had this vast army come from? The question did not go unanswered for long, for riding up the way came the figure of a man thought long dead: Sheriff Vaysey.

"Man the battlements!" Guy shouted, stirring everyone into action. He pulled Rebecca back into the relative safety of the town walls as he and John shut the gates.

"He is supposed t' be dead!" Rebecca said, "How can he...how can this...he _died!_"

"I will deal with him," Robin growled, "Guy, come with me."

***

No one had expected the sudden attack. The fireball landed in the center of the town, blasting debris and fire everywhere. Three men were dead before any help could arrive. Rebecca and Kate rushed onto the scene with water, but the water did nothing to douse the flames. In a numb state of terror they took to smothering the fire with anything available. No one had seen a weapon quite like that. Byzantine Fire; that was what Archer and Tuck had called it, and they were completely helpless to any future attacks from it.

Guy and Robin rode back into the town and they appeared almost as shaken as the rest of them. The Sheriff wanted Nottingham, and he was prepared to annihilate anyone who resisted. Rebecca continued to work clear the carnage in the square.

"Becca," Guy approached her as he dismounted his horse, "There's nothing more you can do here."

"There's going t' be a battle here," she stated calmly. "We can't have people tripping over burnt out bodies an' wood. I salvaged the wagons, Kate thinks we can use them for protection if need be. Much is raiding the armory in the castle, thinks there might be some weapons left for us...why are ya looking at me like that?" Rebecca said, her voice catching, "I'm fine."

Guy knew that to be a lie. She was not fine, but neither was he. He knew from the moment he saw the Sheriff and the army backing him there would be no escape. All of the dreams of a home and a life with Rebecca were pulled from him and violently shattered before his eyes. He had only ever experienced a pain akin to it once before, his very soul was writhing in opposition even as the sharp spear of reality impaled it upon bleak hopelessness.

Guy kicked at an overturned bench, turning it right side up. He motioned for the barely trembling woman to come and sit beside him before she fell over from shock and fright. Rebecca sat next to him, but she kept her arms tight at her sides and hands clasped in her lap. Guy did not reach for her, sensing his touch would only suffocate the already reeling woman.

"I know that look," she said roughly, glancing over at him, "I'm very acquainted with that look...ya had it when Marian left ya at the altar, and again after she....died. Please, please don't look at me in that way, I can't _bear_ it," Rebecca pleaded.

"I should have known there would be no escape from this," Guy said softly, facing away from her as his own agony seemed to trouble her so much. "It was foolish to believe I would be allowed a life of contentment after what I have done..."

Rebecca's eyes hardened at his words. "I did not know Marian well, we were not overfond o' each other when we did speak to one another, but I know this much: she cared for ya," she saw him flinch as if she had stabbed him with a dagger. "She was kind an' compassionate an' I never took her t' be a woman o' revenge or needless violence. If ya think she watches ya from heaven with the eyes o' one who wants t' see ya suffer then I say ya are wrong. I think she'd want ya t' fight and live t' be the man she tried t' understand and care for."

Rebecca wiped at her eyes, as they stung with tears. "Guy, ya loved her. For that I tried t' love her as well. Fight for her. If it was Marian sitting here with ya now ya think she would say any different?" She rested her head against his shoulder, clasping his hand in hers. "If we are given a life beyond this and we are blessed with a family, our child....if she should be a girl...will be named Marian."

Rebecca could feel him gasp at her announcement before he began to weep quietly; for he knew there would be no escape and he knew that Rebecca understood that as well. There would be no home, no family and no daughter to raise or cherish. The pain and grief of past agonies came rushing back. Rebecca could be killed in the battle, he could not help but realize it would be his fault. He had killed the two women he had loved with all his soul, and no matter how Rebecca tried to console him there could be no true comfort for such losses.

Rebecca kissed Guy's tearstained cheek as his tears lessened. "We should go and join up with the others," she whispered. "They need our help."

Guy nodded, trying to find his voice again for he did not trust it yet. "You go," he said, "I need to speak to Isabella....see if she knows anything."

Rebecca did not like the idea of Guy going to see his treacherous sister on his own, but his reasons were sound and they needed all the information they could get. Rebecca agreed, she parted from him to walk towards the castle steps. Guy stared off after her, her mere presence a small consolation. Perhaps Rebecca had been right; Marian would not want vengeance. She had once called him a good and decent man and he had failed her and in doing so he had destroyed himself. Now Rebecca swore she saw the same in him as Marian had, and he could not fail her as well. His heart rallied against the waves of guilt within him; he had been given the gift of loving two women who had understood him completely. He would make himself worthy of such a gift.

For a brief moment Guy swore he could hear Marian's voice whispering to him as gently as if she were standing beside him. _You are good man, Guy of Gisborne. Fight for me; do not fail me again._

He swore then that he would fight for her, as he had not when she had still been alive. He would fight to live to give Rebecca all the love and happiness that had been stolen from her; he would fight for Marian's forgiveness and for God's; for all the wrong he had ever done and for all the crimes he had ever committed. He would fight, and he would not fail.

***

The Great Hall was in a state of disarray, as was Robin and the rest of the gang. They sat around the long table; Tuck was in the process of bandaging his wounds, Robin stood with his hands atop the table, his head lowered in concentration. Much stood at a distance, arms crossed and faces lined.

When the doors opened everyone jumped, drawing weapons. "It's only me," Rebecca said, realizing that everyone was still in shock from the recent attack from Vaysey and his men.

The gang relaxed at the sight of her. "Is Kate with you?" Robin asked her curiously, his voice betraying a subtle worry.

Rebecca shook her head, "I thought she would be with you lot."

Robin looked away, not wanting to persist with the question. Rebecca walked down the stairs towards the table. "Found some wagons and carts that survived the fire. Thought we could use them for barricades if need be."

"That's clever of you."

The voice was a new one. A man sat apart from the rest of the gang. He looked like trouble to Rebecca. "Who are ya?" She asked.

"Archer."

"He's my brother," Robin said, eyeing the man with a less than brotherly affectionate glance.

Rebecca looked at the man again with newfound understanding. This was the lost brother that Robin and Guy had ridden out to rescue. Now that she saw him properly, he did bare a striking resemblance to the both of them. "I saw ya," she said, "ya were the man who attacked the guards, ya cleared the way for us t' get into the castle."

"Glad to know I was not entirely a failure," Archer grunted.

Oh yes, Rebecca thought, he was definitely their brother. The doors opened once again and this time it was John who came marching in. "Robin, Kate's gone to Loughborough for reinforcements."

"What?!" Robin shouted, slamming his hands upon the table.

"What's happened?" It was Guy, he emerged from the back of the room from the staircase leading towards the dungeons.

"It's Kate," Robin said. "Kate's taken it upon herself to go to Loughborough for the troops."

"She knows what she's doing," John said, trying to maintain a sense of calm.

Robin moved about in agitation. "The Sheriff is playing with us! He knows he's got the advantage. We have to hold his castle until the troops arrive."

"Can we?" Much asked. "How long under bombardment from Byzantine Fire?"

"He's got plenty of it," was Archer's enigmatic response.

"I sold it to him."

This was too much for the gang's already frayed nerves. Robin's rage was palpable as he shouted, "Well now your trade has caught up with you! And your going to be bombarded by your own weapons!"

"I've done you a favor by sticking 'round here. I saved your ungrateful lives!" Archer retorted.

"Our lives wouldn't have needed saving if you hadn't trapped the tunnel in the first place," Guy said.

Rebecca tugged upon Guy's sleeve. What did he mean 'trapped the tunnel in the first place?' And what did Archer have to prove by stating that he had saved their lives? She felt a cold chill slither down her spine. How close had she come to losing Guy today? He gave her a quick reassuring glance, which calmed the wild questions rising in Rebecca's mind.

"We lock him up," Much said, "We can't trust him."

Archer turned to leave the room, contempt heavy in his footsteps. "What's the matter?" Robin called, "Guilty conscience? And what of all those people who are going to die because of your greed?"

"And what about all those who will die because they listened to Robin Hood?" Archer said, "A few untrained, under equipped peasants against that war machine? So you think about what you got them into before you ever try and judge me."

"He's right," Rebecca said softly as Archer fled from the room. "We won't be able to hold out much longer."

"We have to take the trebuchets," Robin said, "A small unit. Tonight."

The impromptu meeting was adjourned as the gang went to make ready for their attack against the Sheriff. Rebecca and John gathered rope and any spare weaponry they could find and carried it up to the battlements where the others were waiting. Robin surveyed the small group of fighters with a critical eye as he explained their goal: disarm the trebuchets.

"Much, you're in charge," Robin said.

His friend was less than pleased to have been given the command, but Robin's will was firm. Rebecca stood beside Much, "I'm staying too. You'll need all the help here ya can get."

"Thank you, Rebecca," Robin said, "You know what you have to do if we should not return."

She nodded numbly, "Hold the castle."

Rebecca went to check that all the ropes were firmly secure for their dissent. When she came to Guy she grabbed him in a swift embrace, which was returned with earnest. She kissed his cheek, "For luck," she whispered.

"Stay safe," Guy said, "I do not care for Robin's orders or his demand that you hold the castle. You need only stay alive."

"I will do my best, my love," Rebecca said, hushing him as she sensed his panic over losing her while he was not there to protect her. "Now go," she urged, parting from him.

He disappeared over the edge of the battlements. Rebecca whispered a prayer into the night as she kept watch, "Dear God, I care not for myself. Keep him safe; protect him where I can not. Please God...return him t' me."

Then she was off, running down the ladder to gather a team of men to barricade the gates. Much kept watch on the battlements, monitoring the gangs movements, waiting for them to appear racing down the bridge. Rebecca stood, sword drawn, in the opening of the gates. For a moment all was still, and then a blinding flash of light signaled that the trebuchets had attempted to fire on them. Rebecca tensed, waiting for the fireball to land in the center of the town, but the trajectory was off! The fire fell straight down atop the trebuchet it had been launched from. Rebecca cheered along with the others as they saw two more of the catapults go up in flames. Robin had done it! That should buy them some time until Kate arrived with the King and his troops.

Soldiers came pouring down the road, chasing after Robin and the gang. Much came running down the ladder urging the others to close the gates as soon as they entered. Rebecca hurried to help close the gates, seeing Robin approach the entrance. Arrows flew overhead, the man next to Rebecca fell with a cry; an arrow lodged in his chest. Picking up the slack, Rebecca took his place. Then there was pain. Lightening spread across Rebecca's body as an arrow slammed into her shoulder. She fell back, gripping the shaft of the arrow in agony. She gave a gasp as shock flooded her senses, for a moment she thought she could survive this pain and then the wave came. She could not even cry out, the breath was knocked from her lungs. Her right arm went slack, but the gates were still open and if she did not help close them the soldiers would ride in.

Forcing herself to swallow her agony she pushed the gates closed on Much's command. Robin and his men charged in screaming their triumph. The gates shut and Rebecca's strength left her. She caught sight of Guy, the thin smirk of victory flickered on his lips as he took notice of her. When she fell she could hear him scream her name.

Guy ran over to her, kneeling down beside her and lifting her gently from the ground. He cradled her in his arms. "Robin!" He shouted for the others, "It's Becca! She's hurt!"

The celebrations ceased immediately as both Robin and Tuck dashed over. "I'm all right," Rebecca found herself saying breathlessly.

Tuck examined the wound as best he could. "The arrow is lodged deep in her shoulder. I don't have enough light. We need to get her inside."

"Then get her back to the castle," Robin said, "Do what you can for her."

Guy carried Rebecca, doing his best not to jostle her and injure her further. She whimpered quietly, clutching the clasps of his coat with her good hand. Her moans of pain drove him mad and he cursed himself for not having gotten back to her sooner. He should have been there to protect her.

"Lay her down on the table!" Tuck said, clearing a space for Guy to place Rebecca down.

He did so with tedious gentleness. Immediately, Tuck set to work. He took his knife out and cut around the sleeve of Rebecca's dress, tearing it off of her so that he could see where the arrow had penetrated into the skin. "I have to pull this out," he stated. "Guy, hold her down."

Tuck gripped the arrow shaft tightly. Rebecca tensed, waiting for the onslaught of pain, but nothing could have prepared her for it. She tried to lurch off of the table, her back trying to arch and move away from the cruelty. Tuck pulled on the arrow and Rebecca could feel every nerve cry out as a line of fire tore through her skin. She screamed. The arrow was buried deep and it did not want to leave her willingly. She tossed her head in delirium, she pleaded with Tuck to stop, she begged; she was almost faintly aware of the fact that she was crying.

Behind her agonized cries she could hear Guy hushing her. His hands smoothed back her hair from her sweat drenched forehead. He whispered to her, "Look at me, Becca, look at me..."

Eventually, Rebecca managed to turn her head. She stared up into his worried blue eyes. She silently pleaded with him to make the pain stop. And then it did. The awful tugging ceased and the tension in Rebecca's body left her shaking. The pain did not end; however, it continued to burn away inside of her arm. She wanted to hack the limb from her, anything to end it.

Tuck cursed as he tossed the arrow shaft away.

"What is it?" Guy asked.

"The arrow was barbed," Tuck said.

"That...that does not sound good," Rebecca said, gasping for air.

"The arrowhead is still in the wound. Rebecca, I have to cut into it to take it out," Tuck explained.

At first Rebecca wanted to tell him no. Her arm already felt as if it had burst into flames; so hot was the pain, but she knew the pain would not cease until the arrowhead was finally removed. She nodded fervently, whimpering at her own consent. When the first slice of the blade came; however, she had no voice left to scream. Her body went limp and she felt darkness come roaring down around her.

"Do not let her sleep!"

Tuck's warning served to rouse her only momentarily. Guy shook her, shouting her name, "Becca! You need to stay awake!"

She groaned, it was so cold and peaceful in the dark. The blade continued to cut into her and she could feel blood running freely down her arm. "Becca!" Guy was growing frantic, "Stay with me!"

Rebecca opened her eyes blearily. Guy kissed her in his relief upon seeing her open her eyes. "It hurts..." Rebecca whispered.

"I know, Becca, but it won't last for much longer."

"I'm tired," she was feeling rather cold.

"Becca?" Guy shook her again, "Becca, listen to me."

She groaned, annoyed at being tugged away from blissful unconsciousness. "Becca, marry me now," Guy said.

"Guy, I'm not dying," she whispered, wishing she could give him more than the reassurance of a few feebly uttered words. It was true, she felt that the pain would kill her, but the arrow had only struck her shoulder, she would be fine.

"Do you hear that?" Guy gestured towards the door where the sound of fighting trickled through. "The battle is still going on and God knows when we will get another opportunity. Marry me, Becca. Tuck can act as witness."

Her hand floundered atop the table as she sought his. He clasped it tightly as she nodded up at him. He leaned in to kiss her, but Rebecca managed to turn her head away, "Not yet!" She winced, and then her shaking body relaxed as Tuck pulled out the arrowhead. All that was left to be done was to stitch the wound closed, and in comparison to the ordeal she had just gone through, the pain of the needle would be nothing.

"I'm sorry there is no ring," Guy apologized.

Rebecca managed to smile, "Ya think I care about a bloody ring? Just say the words, already!"

"I, Guy of Gisborne, take thee, Rebecca Tanner, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer...I...I don't remember the rest..."

"In sickness and in health," Tuck supplied the missing words.

Guy nodded, "Obviously in sickness and in health," Rebecca laughed, wincing at the motion.

"To love and to cherish."

Guy could not resist giving Rebecca's hand a light kiss, "To love and to cherish."

"Till death do you part."

"No," Guy said.

"No?" Rebecca questioned.

"To love and to cherish...even after I die."

Rebecca was silent for a time as tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Guy looked down at her nervously, "I think it's your turn to say something now, Becca."

She choked on her laughter as she hurried to say the words she had only dreamt of saying to him. "I, Rebecca Tanner, take thee, Guy of Gisborne to be my wedded husband. To have and t' hold from this day forth, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, t' love and to cherish even after I die."

"I believe then, you may kiss your bride, Guy," Tuck said, finishing tying off the bandages about Rebecca's shoulder.

Guy swept Rebecca into his arms, cradling her as he kissed her. Rebecca clung to him, feeling even the pain wash away from her for those brief moments. As they parted Robin appeared upon the balcony. "How does Rebecca fair?" he asked.

"She fairs far better than anyone in all of England," Rebecca said as she continued to be rocked in the arms of her husband. The danger of battle forgotten as she rested against him, kissing him sweetly.

"I am glad to hear it," Robin said, relief heavy in his voice. "Guy, we need you back out here. Vaysey's men are trying to push us back to the courtyard."

Guy set Rebecca back down. "I need to go," he said.

"I will come with ya."

"You can barely stand, let alone fight. You need to rest," Guy said soothingly.

"There is no time for that," she insisted.

"Becca! Do you know what I thought when I saw you had been injured? I thought I had already lost you," his hands trembled at his sides, "I thought you would...die in my arms. Becca, you can not ask me to place you in danger again. Stay in the castle, for my sake. I can not lose you now, my wife."

Rebecca wanted to argue that she could not very well stay hidden away in the castle and send him out into battle alone; she could not lose him either, but she saw the irrational fear in his eyes and heard the terror of his warning. He could not watch another woman he loved die. It would destroy him. So, she nodded her consent. He kissed her. There were such promises of love and happiness in that kiss. He parted from her and went out to the meet the enemy.

"Don't look so forlorn, Rebecca," Tuck said. "You can help me instead."

"Help? With what? What are we doing?" Rebecca asked, placing a hand to her bandaged shoulder as she turned about.

"We are going to make Byzantine Fire."

***

Rebecca had been assisting Tuck in his efforts to recreate Byzantine Fire for nearly a full hour. The easy and subtle motions of handing him the supplies he needed built up her strength again. She could not walk across the room for long periods of time, but she did not have to. The agonizing pain of her recent injury had faded to a steady ache, and as long as she did not use her injured arm she did not aggravate the wound further.

"Tuck!" came Robin's cry from the balcony of the Great Hall, "I need that fire! We can't hold out much longer."

"Robin!" Tuck shouted, taking a beaker from Rebecca's hands, "Nut oil!" he announced, "The Sheriff and gallons of it in the cellars."

"Good," Robin said distractedly, "we could use it."

"No, no, I can do better than that! The nut oil is a base compound," Tuck explained as he lit a bowl of the concoction he had strategically placed on the table.

The thing exploded, sending a tower of fire into the air. Rebecca gave an excited little scream as she saw the flames rise. Tuck stood proudly alongside her. "That, my friend, is Byzantine Fire!"

"How much have we got?" Robin asked, overawed.

"Gallons and gallons of it."

"We can turn it into Byzantine Fire," Rebecca said, "We just need more time."

"Robin!" That was Kate's scream, "Robin the portcullis' been breached, their going to take the courtyard!"

Rebecca's face fell at the sight of her. If she was back then that meant there would be no reinforcements. She had not been gone nearly long enough to ensure any hope of that. The reality of their plight suddenly became all the more bleak. She leaned against one of the barrels. Tuck noticed her distress. "No time to grieve now, Rebecca. If we get this done, we can still turn the tables in our favor."

"The King is not coming," she said. "Even if we do succeed in making the Fire...the soldiers could still break through."

"We can not allow ourselves to think of such thoughts. Now hurry, we must work quickly if we are to complete this."

Rebecca continued to work alongside Tuck steadily, forcing herself to focus only on the task at hand. She managed to keep her strength up as well as block out any dark thoughts. When Guy returned to the relative shelter of the Great Hall her happiness upon seeing him again gave her renewed energy. He stole a quick kiss as he went to gather the weapons from the store room. He glanced back at her with a smile. Even among so much misery and despair he could still steal away her fears with such a look.

Time pressed down around them all. The soldiers battered away outside and even as Rebecca strove to ensure the manufacture of the weapon which would save them all, she could hear death flying at her from all sides.

"Pass out the weapons and ammunition!" Robin roared running back inside with the rest of the men, "Gisborne! Get these men into position!"

Guy shouted for the men to barricade the doors. Rebecca hurried to move out of the way of the men as they ran up the stairs to close the doors. Her heart nearly stopped as she saw the cloaked figure of a woman she thought long disposed of: Isabella of Gisborne. She gestured towards Guy, her grim reaper hand beckoning for him to follow her as she disappeared into a trap tunnel in the wall.

Guy drew his sword, his eyes glazing over with revenge and hatred as he moved to follow her.

"Guy?" Rebecca called out, her voice unsteady with fear.

This stopped him. He turned lowering his sword for a moment. Again that gentle smile appeared upon his face as he sheathed his blade and reached for his wife. "Defend the castle," he said casually, "there's a tunnel which can lead out of here. I think it may be clear very soon. You can take the others and get them to safety."

"Don't go," Rebecca said softly, wrapping her arms about him, holding him and reaffirming that she was keeping him safe in her arms, "Guy, please, don't go," she could not explain the terror which had reached down into her heart at his cryptic words.

He leaned down and kissed her. His lips pressed against hers slowly, traveling lightly to trace the outline of her. His hand cupped her cheek, keeping her still. Breath was no longer a necessity, they remained locked in the perfect fit of their kiss. Even when it was too much and Rebecca gently turned to gasp for breath, Guy's lips remained at the corner of her mouth, unwilling to part from her skin. He held her close, eyes shut in momentary bliss as he allowed himself to memorize every part of her. He could faintly hear her heart beating, he stood so close to her. It was such a frantic pounding. He rocked her gently, soothing her until he heard her heart as a reluctantly comforting drumming; the sweetest sound.

He pulled himself away from her before she could reclaim him another kiss. He would not be able to part from her if she did. He stared at her, his eyes drinking in the sight of her; his friend, his lover, his wife. "I do so love you, my Becca," he said, his voice breaking.

Rebecca could not find the words to respond. He turned to leave her. "Guy!" She cried, as he was half way through the trap door.

He turned one last time to look at her. She managed a smile, which burned itself into Guy's memory. "I forgive you, my love," she whispered.

Guy closed his eyes at the absolution of her words. She nodded that it was time for him to go. She shut her eyes, not wanting to see him leave her. When she opened them, Guy was gone.

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**A/N: Yes, no flashback. This is final. Feel jarred by the emptiness of no flashback? Good. It took me an age to force myself to rewatch the finale of RH in order to write some of the dialogue and scenes necessary. So some dialogue (c) to BBC. **

**Last chapter will be posted soon. Can't believe I finished this story already!  
**


	29. Racing Home

**This is it, everyone! The last chapter!

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IXXX

Racing Home

The sword felt heavier in her left hand. Rebecca decided to sheath the blade until it was absolutely necessary for her to wield it. She stood in the corner closest to the back of hall. Kate approached her, "Where did you get that decent looking battle wound?"

Rebecca was surprised to find herself capable of a small grin, "Arrow," she said.

"Lucky it only struck your shoulder, eh?" Kate replied. The woman was shaking with adrenaline and fear. It was obvious she wanted to converse with Rebecca to establish some sense of normalcy. "Where's Guy?" she asked, looking around.

"Isabella escaped. He went after her," Rebecca explained in short sentences, her throat growing tight as the words escaped her.

"Figures he would leave the rest of us to fend for ourselves," Kate said.

"He told me there was an escape route through the tunnel. He was going to see if it was cleared. He told me t' stay behind and help the others escape. He didn't leave us. No matter what ya think of him, Kate, Guy is not one t' desert those he has pledged his loyalty t'. He would not abandon his own wife."

"You're his...?"

"I'll thank ya t' stop your hateful remarks. We're all fighting for our lives here."

"You really love him, don't you?" Kate asked, no trace of spite or mockery in her voice. Rebecca blinked, had she realized how hurtful her words had proven before? Or did she truly have no concept of her relationship with Guy and was therefore constantly mystified by her defense of him?

"For all my life," Rebecca said.

The doors to the castle shuddered under the force of the soldiers attacks. Rebecca swallowed hard. It wasn't going to be long now before they broke in and then they would all be cornered.

"I'll be so happy to see Sherwood again after this," Kate laughed nervously, "and the camp, I don't think I'll ever leave it for as long as I live. What will you do after the battle?"

"Leave Nottingham," Rebecca said. "Go someplace far away from here...maybe even out of England entirely."

"Sounds like quite an adventure," Kate said.

"No, no it's nothing so exciting as that. We just want a place to build a home; start a family," Rebecca smiled through her abject misery as she reflected on the future that would never be.

"That's something worth fighting for; family," Kate agreed. She looked over at Rebecca, "Say you'll at least give us a farewell before you go?"

Rebecca nodded to her companion, "I think I can manage that."

Kate held out her hand for Rebecca who shook it warmly.

There came a crash from outside. "They're coming!" Much shouted.

"We can't hold them off much more, Tuck!" Kate shouted.

"Just a little bit longer," Tuck urged, pouring the last of the powder into the barrels.

"Come on!" Kate urged, frustration heavy in her tone.

"Leave the door! Everyone is to follow me!" Archer's sudden return startled them all, he rounded up the small peasant militia, including the women and children. "Robin's orders."

Kate and Rebecca exchanged wary glances as they went to assist Archer gather up the rest of the people.

"With me?" Archer asked, "To the cellars!"

If Archer was urging everyone to follow through the tunnel into the cellars that meant the tunnel was no longer blocked! There was a way out, they could escape from this place. Rebecca dared not to allow herself to hope again, the rush of it was almost as painful as blood returning to numb limb. Robin was the next to emerge out of the trap door.

Rebecca tried to signal to him to let him know if it was safe to go down yet. Would Guy be waiting for her, or was he already out and waiting for the others to follow? She pushed through the crowd to get to Robin.

"Are we ready?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, we're done," Tuck confirmed. "Gisborne?"

The exhausted man shook his head, sorrow and regret heavy in his eyes. Rebecca felt herself freeze, a chill like her soul passing out of her body consumed her. Robin turned those sorrowful eyes to her as he caught sight of her and his grief seemed to expand tenfold. He seemed to telling her he was sorry so many times Rebecca felt the weight of the words pound heavily in her ears.

But the tunnel was clear...Guy should be out by the entrance helping Archer guide the others out of the castle. Or maybe he had been hurt. Yes, he had fought with his sister and he had been injured, that was all. Robin was merely going to tell her she had better hurry and tend to him, but he was still safe; safe and waiting for her.

"He fought bravely, Rebecca," Robin sighed. "You would have been proud of him."

She was proud. She would tell him when she saw him, as soon as Tuck and Robin led her out of this god forsaken hall she would gladly run with all due haste out of the tunnel and tell him how proud she was. How badly was he hurt that they could not tell her?

"Take me t' him?" Her voice trembled with the pressure of her denial.

Robin shook his head, "We have to leave. We don't have much time."

"I don't understand," Rebecca said, "Ya have t' take me t' him...we can't leave without him. Is he hurt? It's all right, ya can tell me. I can help."

"Rebecca..." Robin groaned, "Guy is..." he couldn't tell her. He couldn't look into her eyes and tell her the man she loved was lying dead. He knew what it mean to lose such a love, he didn't need to see it reflected back at him; especially from a friend.

"He died, Rebecca," Tuck said in place of Robin.

The two men went silent, expecting the woman to cry, or scream, or run herself mad. Nothing of the kind happened. Rebecca's eyes quietly darkened as her head sunk a little lower. Her arms hung as cut wires at her sides and her skin drained itself of color. She staggered forward, but Robin took hold of her arm before she could fall.

"Tell me it was quick," Rebecca's words were quipped as she heaved air into her lungs mechanically. "Tell me there wasn't any...pain..."

"He died peacefully," Robin soothed, "free of all demons and past crimes which haunted him."

"I should have stopped him. I shouldn't have let him go down there alone...I...I should have been there..."

"Rebecca, it's because of Guy that we've managed to find a way out of here. He saved all of us. If he hadn't gone down the tunnel we would have all died here," Robin said. "Come on, Rebecca," he began to lead her to the trap door, "you need to escape. You need to live for him."

She was supported by both Robin and Tuck as she went down the tunnel to join up with the others. She was oblivious to all that surrounded her, but she was painfully aware that she was still walking; that her blood still pumped through her veins that her lungs still stubbornly continued to breathe. Live for him? Rebecca could see the eternity of years spent living in this shell of a body, a mechanical automaton only capable of survival. That was life, but it was not living.

The trio paused as they heard the sound of soldiers marching up the way. Robin cursed in a whisper. They had come to a cross in the tunnel. One section heading deeper into the tunnel, and the other leading towards the way out.

"You two go, and join with the others," Tuck said, drawing his sword, "I'll hold them off."

"Tuck, no. We leave together or not at all!" Robin said.

The sound of soldiers drew nearer. Vaysey and Isabella were with them, their voices echoing in the dark halls.

"Robin," Rebecca croaked, "was it Isabella who killed Guy?"

Robin looked at her, shuddering at the dark light barely flickering beneath the surface of her eyes. "Yes," he could not refuse her the answer.

Rebecca looked as if she would crumble where she stood, but the destruction turned inward on itself as she drew her sword. "Both of you should go," she said.

"Rebecca, it's suicide to stay here."

"Robin, look at me," Rebecca said, tears steadily streaming down her cheeks from blank eyes, "I'm already dead."

"Rebecca, no!"

Rebecca glared at him, "Do not condemn me t' a half life, Robin out of your need t' save everyone. I'm dead, can ya understand?! There's nothing left t' be saved, now go! For God's sake, Robin get out of here!"

Tuck gripped Robin by the arm. "Do as she says."

"Good bye, Robin. Tuck, make sure he gets everyone out," Rebecca said through the haze of her tears. The man nodded to her. She gripped her sword tight in her hand before she went running down into the dark deep of the tunnel.

"_Isabella!_" Rebecca screamed. The inhuman wail echoed down the passageway like hundreds of knives sharpening on blunt stone. So haunting was the sound it caused the few soldiers examining the route into the cellars to stop and head back towards the main group. Was it even a human who spoke with such hatred and grief? Or were there ghosts in Nottingham Castle?

The bedraggled spirit stepped into the open passage, sword drawn and extended, pointing directly at the woman she so coveted. Isabella seemed surprised to see Rebecca, but not at all displeased. Vaysey was with her and he eyed with her more annoyance than shock. Two of the soldiers recoiled at the sight of the haunting vision.

Isabella smiled, "Becca, I was wondering if I might get the chance to see you again. Heard about Guy's untimely death, have you?"

"Don't ya dare speak his name," Rebecca hissed. The sword shook in her hands as Isabella side stepped about Rebecca cautiously, revealing the body of her brother. Rebecca fought to keep her eyes on the target of her hatred and not the broken image of her husband.

"Hate to interrupt this very amusing meeting, but we haven't the time to stay and chat," Vaysey said. "Isabella, either take care of your disturbed little friend or I assure you my men will."

"No need, Sheriff," Isabella grinned, her eyes glinting with an unbalanced light, "Becca and I have a score to settle." She drew forth a simple dagger.

Rebecca made no move to lunge for her. Isabella laughed, "What's the matter? Too much of a coward to try and kill me. God, you and Guy were ever the same; cowards to the last."

The sword flashed in the darkness; the only warning Isabella had to dodge out of the way. The blade managed to tear a gash in the sleeve of Isabella's gown, a thin line of blood marred her flesh where the sharp tip had grazed her shoulder. That had been too close. Rebecca's dark eyes burned, it was a demonic thing to behold. There was no life behind those eyes, merely the image of moving spirit bent on destruction. Revenge was the only thing forcing blood through the woman's veins.

Realizing that there would be no talking or goading to be done with the woman, Isabella had to concentrate on dodging the blind swings of Rebecca's sword. She wasn't looking for an easy kill. She was looking to maim her in any way possible.

"Are you really going to kill me, Becca?" Isabella asked, her voice laughing nervously with false confidence.

Rebecca pressed the flat of the sword against Isabella's throat as she pinned her against the wall. She did not speak, her lips drawn in a thin line as she swept the blade up to come slicing towards her enemy's throat.

White lights danced in Rebecca's eyes as Vaysey came up from behind her to ram the hilt of his sword against her skull. Dazed, Rebecca floundered backwards. Isabella kicked the blade out of the woman's hands. Rebecca's arms were pulled behind her as she was restrained. She did not even try to struggle.

"Couldn't have even faced me on your own, could ya, Isabella?" Rebecca chided as if she was speaking to her young charge the way she had several years ago. "I'm not surprised."

"You were a fool to try and challenge me, Becca," Isabella spat, circling her. She twirled the dagger in her hands, the silver steel glinting in the torch light once before it disappeared from view, buried in the chest of the restrained Rebecca.

Rebecca fell to her knees as she was released. Isabella looked down at her, contempt in her gaze. "I told you, you should have killed me when you had the chance."

Rebecca smiled up at her, blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth as she let out a raspy, keening laugh; the demon would not die! The blasted ghost would not be given up. Isabella kicked at her in her fright. Rebecca continued laughing, "Ya don't get it...miserable creature that ya are...I've won." Robin would have gotten out by now and with any luck he was making himself ready to set fire to the gallons of Byzantine Fire waiting int the Great Hall. She had bought him enough time. The fuse was ready, just waiting to be lit.

"I'll see ya in hell, Isabella!" She shouted with the last of her breath to the fleeing form of the shadowed woman. Isabella ran like a woman out of a nightmare. The rest of the remaining troops, including the Sheriff swiftly followed, wanting to get away from the mad and seemingly immortal woman.

Rebecca sat kneeling in the center of the tunnel. The dagger was still buried in her chest. Slowly she gripped the handle and drew it out. She let out a small whimper, but there was hardly any pain, merely the odd and rough, grating sensation of metal sliding out from between her ribs. She felt the wound in her chest fill with blood, the warmth spreading outwards in large rivulets. Almost immediately her vision darkened. She tried to rise to her feet, but she crumpled to the floor.

She could see Guy lying only a few paces away. Using what little strength she had left she crawled over to him. Breath was becoming harder and harder to come by. She collapsed at his side, curling up next to him. She could feel a soothing cold spread to all of her limbs. Rebecca's smile flickered on her face, like the light of candle slowly going out. Guy appeared as if he was only asleep. She pressed a hand to his cheek, letting her fingers trail along the contours of his face before all motion in them ceased, and her arm fell back to her side. She was tired too, sleep would be a blessing.

"Wait for me..." she whispered. Then she closed her eyes, the dark swirling around in a blissful cascade of shadow. And there was no more.

**_Early Fall, 1173_**

Rebecca lay on her back, staring up at the awning of branches and leaves. The foliage was only just beginning to golden, the only clue that autumn had at last arrived. The air was warm, the remnants of summer still clinging on. Rebecca bit her lower lip as she tried to restrain the contented smile spreading across her face.

A sudden, but far from unwanted, pressure came to rest against her. She looked over and saw Guy gently pulling her under his arm. They locked eyes, both wanting reassurance from the other. Guy knew very well the consequences which could be faced if anyone was to find out about what had taken place here. Rebecca could be sent away, her reputation slandered, not to mention his own. It seemed so unfair that those thoughts could suddenly be forced to the front of his mind. He did not want to think of them at this moment. He wanted to revel in this state of perfection.

Rebecca was smiling and Guy knew his thoughts were her own. He could not maintain his own smile and his face quickly darkened, a shift of expression that did not go unnoticed by his friend.

"What's wrong?" She asked him, sudden hesitation in her eyes. "Did I not...was I..."

"No!" Oh God, there was nothing could be wrong with all she had done. "I'm sorry, Becca, I was letting my thoughts run away with me."

She kissed the tip of his nose before settling against him once more. "Well, try t' keep your thoughts grounded on more immediate things," she teased.

That was easy enough to do once he tried. She was so soft against him, such a perfect fit for him. These last few months had been especially trying on him. He tried to convince himself that he should not be thinking of such sinful thoughts. Rebecca was his loyal and best friend. He should not be imagining her bare and curled against him, lying with him in a manner fit for a husband and wife not lord and servant. But it was hard to think of anything they had done as sinful or wicked. It could not be.

He wanted to ask her if she thought the same as he, but he could not properly voice what he himself was thinking or feeling. It was something he had never truly felt before. He felt an overwhelming amount of possession take hold of him. "Becca? Will you be with me always?" He felt childish asking such a question, but he felt he would burst if he did not glean a little of what the girl beside him was thinking.

"Of all the ridiculous questions ya have ever asked me, Guy this one takes it," Rebecca chuckled, nuzzling against him. "What do ya think?"

"That's not an answer," Guy said.

"Of course I'll be with ya, where would I go? I promise I'll always be with ya." Like she would say otherwise! Guy kissed her upon hearing her words. Rebecca laughed in pure delight and that only furthered his enthusiasm. He rolled over on top of her.

"Guy!" Rebecca gasped, trying to speak in between his fervent kisses, "The sun's about t' set. We need t' get back home."

Guy groaned, collapsing back onto his side, tugging her against him and half rocking her as he spoke, "Home! Why do we have to go back there? We can just stay here. No one will find us."

"You know we very well we can't stay here without the mistress or my mum sending someone after us," Rebecca said, "They know us too well by now."

"So? We can hide in the woods, build our own home."

"Guy, has the sun gotten t' ya? You're starting t' sound a bit mad," Rebecca comically placed her hand upon his forehead, as if to check for signs of fever.

So what if he was? He was the happiest he had been in a long time. If he was mad for wanting to prolong such happiness then he was more than willing to slip into insanity. Once they went back to the manor Rebecca would go back to the servant's quarters and he would return to his own. They would have to move in their separate circles. And the night; he did not want to think about the night. Rebecca had managed to sneak up into his room a few times just to lie with him for a time, as he had slept with her several times on her cot in her quarters, but they couldn't keep that up. He wanted to stay with her in the one place they were always totally alone.

Rebecca rolled over, grabbing her shift and her linen dress she began to slip back into her clothes. Realizing there would be no more convincing to be done, Guy grudgingly dressed himself as well. They both remained sitting, hidden in the thicket for a time.

"Guy..." Rebecca suddenly said, eyes shining nervously, "I'm really very happy...really...I've, I've never felt like this before."

She was answered with a gentle and understanding kiss. It was all either of them needed. Rebecca and Guy rose to their feet as they made their way out of the thicket. Rebecca sighed as she stared off down the path through the forest which would lead them home. She did not truly want to go back either, but there was time, she reflected. It was not as if they could never manage to steal away a few moments together. Rebecca took his hand in hers, squeezing it lightly. As he smirked at her she knew he must be thinking similar thoughts. She would never leave his side, she promised herself, for as long as she lived she would never ever--

"Race you back to the village!" Guy roared boisterously as he released her hand and sped off down the sun streaked path.

Inconsiderate rogue! Rebecca laughed at the challenge. She took off after her friend. "Guy! Wait for me!" She ran through the bright golden forest, the sun dancing off of the leaves as she went dashing away, each step bringing her closer to him, she could hear him laughing, urging her on.

"Wait for me!"

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**A/N: As always, a big thank you goes out to everyone who reviewed and to all the silent readers out there as well. Your support is always very much appreciated. I hope you all enjoyed reading this story, because I had a great time writing it. I look forward to hearing your feedback!**

**So what's next? Plenty of stuff still to come, I plan on taking "Sands of Morpheus" out of it's holding slot very soon, so expect a few updates in the near future; also, keep your eyes open for a RH holiday one-shot! Oh...and one more thing, a brand new fic taking place after S3...think of it as an AU S4 fic, if S4 was a Guy spin-off. Hows that for a teaser?**

**Until next time, thanks so much! :)  
**


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